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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023827">to avenge the sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zii8/pseuds/Zii8'>Zii8</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sorry hinata [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Best Friends, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Chaos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Injury, M/M, MSBY Jackals, Male Friendship, No Smut, PTSD, Pain, Possessive Kageyama Tobio, Protective Kageyama Tobio, Protective Miya Atsumu, Psychopath, Psychopathology &amp; Sociopathy, Roommates, Sad Miya Atsumu, Schweiden Adlers - Freeform, Serial Killers, Thriller, Timeskip, Torture, Whump, and other things happen but i dont wanna spoil, my oc is just a little crazy, national team, national volleyball team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:35:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zii8/pseuds/Zii8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been 9 years and he still finds himself wondering-</p><p>how would Hinata look in death?</p><p>His wild orange hair coated in sticky blood, eyes that were fiery with passion and dreams unseeing of the skies above; there is no longer warmth in his shadows and breath. His normally flushed cheeks a tint of blue. It is too still and silent. </p><p>It is beautiful.</p><p>*Please do not repost this work without my permission*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou &amp; Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Original Male Character(s), Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sorry hinata [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. itching closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This can be read as a stand-alone because I made sure there’s some sort of recap throughout.</p><p>This is basically a short sequel for those who wanted to see a little update on our crazy boi fujiwara :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: WARNING it gets a little... painful</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How would Hinata look in death?</p><p>His wild orange hair coated in sticky blood, eyes that were fiery with passion and dreams unseeing of the skies above; there is no longer warmth in his shadows and breath. His normally flushed cheeks a tint of blue. It is too still and silent. </p><p>It is beautiful.</p><p>Fujiwara Kenji’s foot rhythmically tapped on the wooden floors as he pondered. He was seated in one of the many study rooms in his family home, while his father was in the dining room having breakfast. He just arrived back last night in Japan for the first time after nine years overseas: completing his high school in Korea, attending university in Argentina, being recruited for one of Argentina's top tier volleyball team, and now here, back in Japan.</p><p>One of the reasons for his return was the grim reality of his mother’s death. Her funeral would be held the next morning, where the dews of previous rain linger and the gathering of respected figures network as his mother’s body lay nearby. It was exhausting to be a picture-perfect image of a devastated son, he knew he should feel the miserable spiral of loss. Some would think it is denial. </p><p>But he had expected her death, she was old and nearing her time.</p><p>She was bound to die soon anyway.</p><p>And so he now dreams of Hinata’s death, perhaps his mother’s own demise was a good reminder of his inner desire. Having spent years overseas due to the sole reason that was enveloped in Hinata’s existence and their prior encounter, thoughts of this orange-haired boy definitely did occasionally intrude his mind. </p><p>Maybe more so than not.</p><p>The main reason for his return was Japan’s national volleyball team. He had been recruited for the starting lineup as a middle blocker alongside Hinata and his friend Kageyama. Fate was a tricky little thing; Fujiwara thought the strings were pulled by the devil himself. </p><p>And he relished in that.</p><p>The very idea of their little reunion next week made his hand slightly shake with excitement. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to calm himself down. The stormy skies outside rumbled threateningly and reflected his own emotions. It was just too perfect. Seeing Hinata again was just-</p><p>Perfect.</p><p>Nine years was much too long. He’s finally back home to breathe the fresh air. To be in the comfort of his domain, to feel more in control, and perhaps to inflict a little pain. Just for fun. </p><p>He missed it. Being overseas restricted him from indulging in his hobby. That is not to say he didn’t let himself loose once in a while. He was not a fool; he knew the consequences of keeping his tendencies locked. He knew of his bloodlust that can manifest into something insatiable if left alone. </p><p>The first time he killed a man was when he arrived in Korea for the first time. His father had been true to his word and flew him out of Japan as soon as he could to ensure the reputation of the family name. Fujiwara Kenji’s scandal would have been a dent to that if he didn’t leave quickly.</p><p>As he settled into his new penthouse, he did not feel at peace. He thought his goodbye with Hinata would help him come to terms with the situation. But instead he felt agitated, angry, and he didn’t know how to quench this building thirst. The view of the city below did nothing to faze him, it was pathetic to be here. He felt frustrated. </p><p>Yet, when he introduced himself in fluent Korean to his classmates a few days later, he projected an image of composure. </p><p>“Hello, my name is Fujiwara Kenji and I’m the new transfer student,” he nodded his head slightly and gave a small smile, “please take care of me the next few months.” </p><p>Fujiwara was sure he even saw a few girls drool over his tall and lean figure. His dark looks were sure to capture their attention. </p><p>Pathetic.</p><p>A few weeks into his new life: he was on edge and ready to snap. He sometimes wondered if he could erase one of the more annoying classmates from his life with just a snap of his neck, but decided against it. He knew now that he needed to be more discrete.</p><p>And so he purposely traveled to the poorer part of the city where the filth lived and where the dark alleys were a looming mess that he was ready to dive in. He was dressed in all black as usual, with a black trench coat that carried his pocketknife. He slipped on his black latex gloves and felt his heart thrumming with anticipation. His mouth watered at the thought of finally relieving himself of the built tension upon his stiff shoulders. </p><p>“Oi,” a random middle-aged guy called out to him. Fujiwara took in the bloodshot eyes, uneven stubble, oily hair, and a particular days-old stench of piss emitting from him. “Are you lost? It’s dangerous around here, you should get out of here.”</p><p>Fujiwara smiled timidly, as though nervous and scared, “I- I’m so glad I came across someone. I was trying to find the nearest bus stop but somehow ended up here. Could you help me please? I’ll buy you a warm meal as a thank you. Please?”</p><p>The filthy man scoffed at his repeated please, “no worries kid, I’ll help you out. I don’t even need the meal, it’s just the decent thing to do, you know?”</p><p>“I insist,” Fujiwara was now smiling widely. His hands were in a tight fist, hidden in his coat. </p><p>
  <em> I insist that you come with me.  </em>
</p><p>“Come on, let’s go,” he waved him along, “it’s just right around here, a ten minutes walk top. Your parents must be worried, it’s getting quite late. You don’t have your phone on you? You shouldn’t make them worry too much.”</p><p>“Ah, my phone died, so that’s why I’ve been a little lost. We just moved here.”</p><p>The man just nodded and they fell into silence. Fujiwara was waiting for the right moment, the seconds itching closer. He saw his opportunity when the street was clear and to the right of them, there was an upcoming dark alley. The moon covered by clouds casted shadows, setting the perfect atmosphere for him to strike.</p><p>A sharp and strong jab against the side of his stomach made the man grunt and double over. Fujiwara lifted his leg and forcefully kicked him into the alley. He stumbled and tripped on his foot, landing sprawled on the dirty floor. </p><p>“Wha-“</p><p>Two hard punches to his shocked face silenced him, only coaxing groans. </p><p>“Shut it,” his tone cold and devoid of emotion. The change in his demeanor made the poor man confused. Fujiwara took masking tape out of his pocket and quickly taped his mouth shut. He then moved on to his hands, taping them behind.</p><p>As soon as his rough manhandling ended, he grabbed his leg and dragged him into the first door he sees, uncaring of his head that was scraping on the rough ground. The man struggled along the way but it was no use. Fujiwara’s hold was tight and iron-like. He led them into a musty storage room that was cramped with boxes and chairs at the side. He shut the door close, leaving only the dim light from outside to illuminate them. </p><p>Fujiwara shakily took out his pocketknife. He paused to shut his eyes and take a few deep breaths.</p><p>
  <em>I need to calm down. I shouldn’t be too hasty. Or my fun will end too soon. </em>
</p><p>When he opened his eyes, he found the face of a man who knew he was going to die. It was one of confusion, of pain, but also one who had accepted his fate. Fujiwara bent down and lightly slapped his face a few times, just to acknowledge that he understands that his mind must be spiraling with questions of why, who, how, and why here?</p><p>How pitiful is it to die smelling like piss in some dark alley? </p><p>“Don’t worry,” he started carving through the flesh around his ankles, giving him no way to escape. The man started to scream behind his taped mouth, thrashing as he did so. </p><p>“I have school tomorrow morning,” he continued as warm blood ran down his gloved hands, “so I won’t take too long.”</p><p>Once satisfied that he was immobile, Fujiwara buried the knife at the side of his torso and left it there. He stood up and took in the scene. The man was shivering uncontrollably. His oily hair matted on his sweaty forehead as his eyes wildly begged him to stop. To let him live. To take out the knife. Blood was slowly seeping from his taped mouth, joining the many stains on his tattered shirt. </p><p>A smile started to spread as he embraced such a familiar sight. The tension was leaving his shoulders, and his scattered mind was clearing. Hearing the muffled panting, and watching the life seep from his body was a powerful feeling. </p><p>He almost felt right at home.</p><p>Fujiwara sent a heavy kick to his gut and savored the gush of blood that flowed from the buried knife and taped mouth. The man had his eyes closed as he tried to grit his way through the pain. </p><p>Another heavy kick.</p><p>“Don’t tell me that hurt,” he goaded. The man’s scream became panicked as his entire being was wrenched into a world of misery, “I barely touched you.” </p><p>And another kick caused a deafening crack to echo through the room. His ribs must have given up on him. </p><p>His breaths were a wet gurgle as fluids threatened to overflow through his taped mouth. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. There were spots in his vision. He was drowning in his own blood. </p><p>A hand roughly pulled his head up and he was now level with the devil’s face. His eyes black, and his lips curled into a sneer. </p><p>“Isn’t this better for you, hm?” He cooed, “isn’t it better to end such a pathetic life?” </p><p>The man shook his head frantically, the spots following his movement. </p><p>
  <em> No, I wanted to become better. Please let me be better.</em>
</p><p>He finally started to cry, the tears mixing with the spit and blood foaming at the corners of his mouth. But Fujiwara’s eyes were unforgiving and unfeeling. In fact, the tears were exactly what he wanted. </p><p>If only he was as beautiful as Hinata when he cried. </p><p>He bent down and harshly grasped at the handle of the knife. He pushed it deeper and deeper, making sure it reached his insides. Making sure the man felt the very frustration that gripped at his head for the past few weeks. </p><p>Fujiwara felt like he could finally breathe. The smell of iron, rust, and the damp stickiness reminded him of the basement at his secluded house back home. It was where he could truly be himself, where his hobbies entertained him as much as he entertained them. </p><p>A hand snaked upwards and found his neck. It tightened around the throat and the man immediately started to convulse. Like an animal living its last few moments. He was choking, his eyes rolling back. </p><p>“You look completely disgusting right now,” he snorted, amused. His hold never slackened, “I should’ve brought a mirror with me so you could see how gross you look. Honestly, when you came up to me smelling like piss, I felt like I was doing you a favor. This is practically charity work. Don’t you think?”</p><p>There was no answer, which was expected. </p><p>Fujiwara wondered, as the man slowly slipped into death, how it would feel to grip Hinata’s dainty and frail throat. His usually red cheeks deepening in color. His tiny hands trying to push him away. The deathly rattles as his desperate pants and breaths fill up the room. He would have found comfort in witnessing Hinata’s last few moments. The intimate connection knowing he had painted that very picture would have been satisfying. The intense gratification that would ensue would have lasted him a lifetime. </p><p>
  <em> Perhaps I should have killed you when I had the chance. </em>
</p><p>He sighed, growing impatient. </p><p>“Ugh, just die already.” </p><p>He repositioned himself so he could now hold the man in a chokehold, expertly applying pressure and waiting for the <em>snap.</em></p><p>And once it did, the thrashing man stilled. Fujiwara calmly pushed the body off him and stood up to coldly stare at the mess he made.</p><p>
  <em> Yes, I truly do wonder how you’d look like in death.  </em>
</p><p>And as he now gazed at the rain that was settling outside in Japan, he felt the anticipation in his fingertips. This would be his last time in a volleyball team before his father would appoint him as the Vice President for the Fujiwara Company. He was due to finally take over the position as the rightful heir to their empire. His possibilities of coming across Hinata was essentially now or never. </p><p>And he hoped he’ll make the most out of it. </p><p>There was a knock on his door, making him stir from his daydream.</p><p>“May I come in, sir?” A butler called out to him.</p><p>“Yes,” he replied curtly. Fujiwara sat up straighter and crossed his legs while leaning back against the wooden armchair. It creaked along with his weight as he waited for him to explain himself. </p><p>“Your Father is calling for you in the dining hall.” </p><p>“Understood, I’ll head over now,” he stood up gracefully, gave a nod to the butler as he passed by to make his way to his waiting father.</p><p>“Father, you called?” He asked as soon as he reached the dining hall. His father was holding his coffee in one hand and the other held his phone as he scrolled through his work e-mails.</p><p>“I wanted to go over the plans for tomorrow’s funeral and the plan for your appointment as Vice President.” </p><p>Fujiwara nodded before taking a seat, “didn’t know you were an event planner now,” grinning as he said so.</p><p>His father just raised his eyebrows at that comment before continuing, “I take it you’ll be in your best behavior tomorrow.”</p><p>He almost rolled his eyes at that statement, “yes, of course.”</p><p>“Good,” he placed both the coffee and phone on the table before focusing all his attention on his only son, “as I mentioned before, I’ll allow you to have this last game of yours but after that, I need you to take responsibility. I’m not getting any younger. I expect you to take over and become President in two years.”</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>And he truly did.</p><p>He truly knew that this last game of his will end with Hinata. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am back with that angst 😌</p><p>Updates will be on Friday as usual, but which Friday... that is the question AHAHAHAH</p><p>I won’t update this as regularly as I did with my ATH fic. This is still considered sort of like a side story but I’m excited to be back on this plot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. still healing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hinata has a nightmare</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: fluff and angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oi, Shou-kun,” Hinata’s arms were being gently poked. But there was no response. He continued gritting his teeth with clenched fists. A thick layer of sweat was covering his forehead, his shirt soaked. It was sending cold shivers down his spine. </p><p>“Shou-kun... Shouyo,” his name was urgently called. There was worry laced in its tone.</p><p>The hands on him were now rougher, desperate for him to wake, “Hinata!” </p><p>Hinata’s eyes finally flew open. He was panting heavily. He frantically tried to make out the dark shape towering next to his bed; the shadowed figure triggering his flight or fight mode. </p><p>
  <em> Oh, it’s Atsumu-San. I’m safe. I’m okay.</em>
</p><p>His adrenaline started to slowly settle when this realization hit. </p><p>“Ugh,” he groaned, feeling disgusting in the sweat-ridden bed and shirt, “whadsgoin’on?”</p><p>He was mumbling, his mind still hazy from sleep.</p><p>“You were talking quite loudly in your sleep, sounding like you were in pain,” Atsumu sounded relief now that he was awake, “I could hear you from my room and... I- I didn’t know what was going on so I came over.” </p><p>“Oh,” Hinata couldn’t quite meet his eyes, “sorry about that, I’m- “ he took a deep breath, “good now,” there was a pause as he racked his brain to find ways to ease the tension. </p><p>“What time is it?” He finally asked, bringing himself into a sitting position. </p><p>“Barely 5 in the morning,” Atsumu replied softly. He realized that he was standing tensed beside his bed and decided to sit down, the bed creaking under his weight. </p><p>“Shouyo,” he started hesitantly, “who’s Kato? I’ve... never heard you say that name before. ” </p><p>Hinata eyes widened for a fraction but it was gone as soon as it came, “no one important. He’s just... yeah, not important anymore.”</p><p>“Do you wanna talk about it?”</p><p>He shook his head once, “no,” a soft smile was now shaping on his lips, “thank you. I’m really okay now, was just a nightmare.”</p><p>And he was telling the truth. It’s been 9 years, most of it spent in counseling and healing. Hinata was feeling stronger and much more in control than he ever did before. Of course, sometimes nightmares do creep in at night when the shadows suffocate him. But despite that, he was okay. </p><p>He knew that it’d take him a little while longer before the nightmares stop altogether.</p><p>Atsumu just studied his face for a few moments, before suddenly jumping up and stretching. Hinata just stared at him before Atsumu flashed him a warm smile.</p><p>“Let’s get breakfast!” </p><p>“At 5 in the morning?” He laughed in response, “Are you crazy, you should rest.”</p><p>“Naw,” Atsumu rubbed his stomach, “I’m starving right now, if you ain’t coming, I’ll just go down to the dining hall... all alone. Feeling all lonely, while eating breakfast, I guess.”</p><p>“The dining hall isn’t even open yet,” his eyes rolling.</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, we’re national athletes and this is our dorms. Of course it’d be open 24/7,” he gave a small yawn, “and it’s been 2 weeks since we moved in, how could you not remember going down at 4am to take away ramen because Bokkun insisted he was gonna die if we didn’t help him out?”</p><p>Hinata smiled fondly at that memory, “you’re right, how could I forget that?”</p><p>“Come on,” Atsumu gently tugged him out of bed, “go change, let’s head down in 10.” </p>
<hr/><p>Hinata found Atsumu all changed and lounging at the living room wearing grey sweats and a matching oversized sweater. While Hinata just threw on a shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. Atsumu eyed his attire and threw his own black hoodie at him, catching Hinata off-guard.</p><p>“Wha-“ he stuttered. </p><p>“Wear it,” he said firmly, “you’re gonna catch a cold.” </p><p>Hinata was about to protest but caught his stern expression before grumpily slipping it on.  He gave him a look that said “<em>happy?” </em>which made Atsumu roll his eyes. But he was satisfied, so he stood up and led them out of their flat. </p><p>They took the stairs from the second floor to the ground level, and was greeted by the mass dining hall that was empty apart from a few straying people. The hall was decorated with odd plants here and there, white wooden furniture, the occasional volleyball ornament, and plenty of mismatched bean bags surrounding a few tables for the more laid back occasions. Soft morning light was starting to seep in from the huge windows that allowed them to see the swimming pool, running track, and tennis court outside. </p><p>Both Hinata and Atsumu headed over to their favorite bean bags; a patterned one for Hinata and a black one for Atsumu. They flopped down, not feeling rested one bit. The bean bags was soft, cosy, and the air conditioned room was seductively lulling them to sleep. </p><p>Atsumu didn’t know how or when, but his eyes were somehow closed and the sweet slumber was calling out to him. Hinata used his foot to roughly jerk him awake, who gasped as he was jolted from his sleepy stupor. </p><p>“Shou-kun,” he whined, “that’s not nice, I was aboutta have the best nap in my life, no joke. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. It was magical...” he paused sighing, “before you ruined it,” proceeding to give him a glare. </p><p>“You could’ve done that in your bed, instead of dragging us both down here,” he retorted as Atsumu thoroughly rubbed his eyes, “stupid.” Hinata added for good measure.</p><p>“Don’t call me stupid, stupid. I wasn’t the one aboutta start an argument on wearing a hoodie when you knew you were gonna ask me to go back up and get you one because you’re cold. As you always do.” He gave him a look.</p><p>“What are you trying to imply, Atsumu-san?” Hinata innocently quipped. </p><p>“Do I look like a stupid push-over to ya?” </p><p>“No no, I thought we’re just really good friends and you’d do anything to help me,” he then added, “and yeah sometimes you’re a bit of a stupid push-over.” He shrugged and grinned widely at Atsumu’s glare. </p><p>“No way I’m ever helping ya out, ever again,” he grumbled before spitting out another, “<em>ever.” </em>For emphasis, of course. </p><p>“Atsumu-san, isn’t it too early to make decisions like that,” he nudged him with his elbow, “didn’t you want to get breakfast?”</p><p>“...what do you wanna eat?” He reluctantly asked. </p><p>“Toast and scrambled eggs please!” He enthusiastically replied, completely erasing any irritation that Atsumu had felt before. It was just difficult for him to stay mad at him, as the others realized too. His warm personality that dripped summer and ice cream on hot days in all ways possible was what attracted many people to him. His laughter, his innocent smiles were just completely contagious. He was the first friend he truly felt comfortable with.</p><p>Atsumu could barely recall the trembling and broken Hinata that was crying on his bed just half an hour ago. </p><p>With a heavy grunt, he stood up from his bean bag and gave Hinata a feigned annoyed look that was reciprocated with a thumbs up. He made his way to the counter and ordered both of them toast, eggs, and a healthy smoothie. When it arrived, their breakfast became a quiet and comfortable endeavor. Atsumu was too tired to form sentences while Hinata’s mind was blank, which was normal for them after a restless night. As soon as Hinata was done, he laid his head back on the bean bag, waiting for Atsumu to finish his meal. </p><p>“Shouyo,” Atsumu called out after a few minutes. Hinata’s eyes fluttered open, “what do you wanna do today?”</p><p>It was a few days before they’ll officially meet the other athletes of the national team and start their training. This rare freedom shouldn’t go to waste and they made sure to savor every moment.</p><p>“Let’s go for a jog,” Hinata replied after a moment. </p><p>“I meant after that,” Atsumu scoffed. It was already routine for them to have a run before or after breakfast. </p><p>Hinata yawned loudly, “uh, I think we need to go to the supermarket. We’re running out of toothpaste and shampoo.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re right. Our chocolate supply is also running out ever since Bokkun moved in,” which made Hinata grin.</p><p>“Oh!” Atsumu’s head snapped to face Hinata at his sudden outburst, “let’s go to the cinema! I’ve been wanting to watch this new horror movie that just came out.”</p><p>“Horror movies are boring,” Atsumu complained.</p><p>In fact, it was so boring, Atsumu had to cover his eyes every time they did watch one. </p><p>“Right... they are boring, let’s go and make fun of how boring it is! Please, I really want to see this movie,” Hinata knew of his fear and couldn’t help but tease him. He could see his ears turning pink and his eyes searching Hinata’s face for a way out.</p><p>“...fine,” he relented with a sigh. Hinata gave a small shout in celebration. </p><p>
  <em> Maybe I am a stupid push-over. </em>
</p><p>“What time’s Tobio-kun arriving at the dorms though?” Atsumu asked, wondering if they’d make it home back in time. This prompted Hinata to check his messages. Kageyama was moving in that day. He was about to occupy the room next to Bokuto and opposite of Hinata, who’s room was beside Atsumu. </p><p>Sakusa was initially moving in the second floor with them, but instead decided to occupy the flat on the third floor. <em>“I need to be away from them both, they... have you seen the state of our bathroom at the MSBY dorms... I-“ </em>he once explained to Hinata. He understood his dilemma, but he didn’t find them to be that gross. Sakusa just had a different standard, and Hinata was okay with that too. </p><p>“He said...” he squinted, scrolling through their chat, “about 8 in the evening.”</p><p>“Okay, that gives us plenty of time then. Maybe we should get him a welcome present while we’re at the supermarket.”</p><p>“Like what?” </p><p>“Um,” Atsumu’s eyes flickered around the dining hall for ideas, “a toothbrush set?”</p><p>This made Hinata fall over in uncontrollable laughter. A red blush started to paint Atsumu’s cheeks in embarrassment.</p><p>“I’ll have you know that it’s a practical gift! S-stop it!” He nudged Hinata’s arm, “stop laughing at me, stupid!”</p><p>“I’m-“ he took a deep breath, trying to control the giggles that escaped his lips, “sorry. That was just- caught me off guard. How about... a huge carton of milk and curry rice?”</p><p>“Wasn’t he the poster boy of some instant curry rice? I remembered he looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole during the ad,” he snorted at the memory. </p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata grinned, “let’s get that one.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Why did you guys spend the whole day without me!” Bokuto cornered them as soon as they came back home from the supermarket and movies. Atsumu’s sweater was stained with his drink that he had accidentally spilled during a particular jump-scare.</p><p>“Sorry Bokuto-san!” Hinata immediately hugged him, “we woke up really early and didn’t want to disturb you.” </p><p>Bokuto just ruffled his hair and grumpily replied, “next time, just drop me a text and I’ll join you guys.” </p><p>Hinata nodded and Atsumu just gave Bokuto a hard slap on his back, making him yelp in pain. This, of course, started a wrestling match between the two. </p><p>“That hurt!” Bokuto snarled. </p><p>“And what about it!” Atsumu barked back.</p><p>Hinata went around them and started to put away the items they bought. Kageyama had texted him that he would arrive soon. He wondered if he’d be okay with the loud mess that is his roommates, who are currently struggling on the ground.</p><p>The doorbell rang, which did not faze the fighting athletes. Hinata stepped over them and went to open the door. He found Kageyama and two large suitcases waiting outside. There was the smell of rain on him, Hinata didn’t realize that a heavy storm had started outside. </p><p>“Kageyama!” He greeted happily. Kageyama gave a small smile in return. </p><p>“What’s that noise?” He asked with a frown once he registered the shouts and grunts.</p><p>“Oh it’s just Bokuto-san and Atsumu-san, don’t worry about it,” Hinata rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the suitcases and dragging it in. “Come in!”</p><p>And he did. Bokuto caught a glance of an awkward Kageyama and immediately broke away from Atsumu, before standing up to greet him.</p><p>“Kageyama!” He shouted, “how are you?”</p><p>“Good,” he replied shortly, trying to adjust to the burst of energy brimming in the room.</p><p>“Tobio-kun!” Atsumu now stood beside Bokuto. “We bought you a toothbrush set!”</p><p>Which prompted a smack on his head from Hinata and a fit of laughter to ensue. This time the wrestling match was between Atsumu and Hinata with Bokuto goading them on. Kageyama watched the chaos unfold before him. </p><p>But somehow, he felt right at home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope y'all are enjoying this, any feedback is welcome :) </p><p>also out of curiosity, do you guys read ao3 on the comp or phone?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. running nowhere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kageyama needs sleep.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: fluff and angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was three days before the national team athletes would start their training, most of which had moved into the dorms. Somehow Kageyama was already exhausted from the few days he had moved in.</p><p>Apparently Hinata didn’t know how to use his indoor voice. </p><p>In the early hours of a Friday morning, Kageyama was woken up by his loud laughter that echoed through the flat. A soft <em>woops </em>quickly followed. Atsumu immediately barked out a laughter at his reaction, before being muffled by most probably Hinata’s hand. </p><p>“Why are you so loud,” Hinata whispered aggressively.</p><p>“No, but it’s literally you shouting though,” he whispered back as aggressively. </p><p>And this whispering just went back and forth for the last few minutes as Kageyama scowled at the ceiling above. The glitters of the morning sun greeted him, but he did not feel like reciprocating its cheery welcome. He had his plush blanket covering most of his face as he tried to sleep back, but his frustration from his exhaustion just bubbled up in him. He sighed and pushed the covers off, deciding perhaps the cold air-conditioned room would help him air the frustration. </p><p>In truth, a part of him didn’t mind being woken by his laughter; the happiness encapsulated in his eagerness and strength was so beautifully captured in that very burst of sound. He remembered when Hinata announced his decision to leave for Brazil after their final year in school. Kageyama was scared and even more than that, he was shocked by his innate desire to become better. A better player and human. </p><p>He knew that the incident haunted him even with his counseling. It was a lingering touch in anything he did: his spikes, his hugs, the way he carried himself. </p><p>
  <em>How does someone so small dare to even delve into a world of the unknown? </em>
</p><p>It was truly admirable. </p><p>“Are you sure about this?” He once asked as he walked him home. That day was particularly hot and sweat was a never-ending stream down his face. They both had bought popsicles and was thoroughly enjoying the ice-cold contrast.</p><p>He nodded slowly in reply, “I need to do this. I just... don’t think I can stay here and be reminded every time I wake up of what happened with all the familiar paths and scenery here... I might just go crazy,” he paused to lick up the melting popsicle that threatened to dirty his entire hand and shirt. </p><p>“I wanted to- I don’t know, just focus on volleyball, try and get better at both, you know, skills-wise and mentally. I feel like the sand, sun, beach would do me good. I...” he stopped walking and Kageyama immediately stalled with him, his eyes searching Hinata’s face that was sticky from his popsicle, “do you think I’m being crazy? My mum says she’ll support me no matter what, but I don’t know if I’m thinking straight sometimes.” </p><p>“I think you’re thinking perfectly,” Kageyama responded softly, gently setting their pace again, “I think... you’re brave and I think you won’t regret going.”</p><p>They trudged on slowly under the blistering sun, “it may be hard at times, with being away from everyone- but, you will survive like you always do. You will find new yummy food, make new friends, start to love the feel of the beach and maybe you’ll finally get better at receives.”</p><p>Hinata‘s mouth was slightly agape, “Kageyama.... I never knew you could be that nice.”</p><p>Kageyama’s face darkened and Hinata knew he was one second away from being chased. An amused snort slipped out and that was the beginning of their back and forth. It was truly a hot day, and their breaths were a bunch of desperate gasps. They were running home but somehow they were also running nowhere. The unknown never had a definite destination. It was the thrill of risk and the pleasure of achievement.</p><p>It was the start of something new. </p><p>A different journey.</p><p>And Hinata was terrified. </p><p>Kageyama was equally as scared. On the day of his flight, his hand tightly grasped on his parting gift. The endless possibilities of Hinata being hurt in any way was a messy web in his head. He almost lost his friend once and he didn’t want to experience that pain again. But he couldn’t let his own fears show, he knew it was time for Hinata to climb the mountain and shine. And he truly deserved that. </p><p>The rest of the Karasuno team, old and new, was crowding around him and saying their goodbyes. His family stood at the side, waiting for the tide of hugs to end. It was finally Kageyama’s turn and he roughly handed him the gift.</p><p>“It’s a small reminder of the thing you need the most,” he muttered, prompting Hinata to quickly unwrap the gift. </p><p>It was a phone case of Kageyama’s favorite milk brand. This made Hinata genuinely laugh despite his face being red and blotchy from the tears. “Thank you, it’s perfect. I’ll think of your grumpy face every time I look at it.” </p><p>“Hope you grow taller,” he smiled, albeit his heart aching a little, “stupid,” he added.</p><p>
  <em>And I hope you finally find a way to be truly happy again. </em>
</p><p>The next time they physically met was when they had their match on opposing teams; him being in Schweiden Adlers and Hinata in MSBY Jackals. He cherished the healthy glow that radiated from his tanned skin. His eyes seemed more forgiving, more open to reveal whatever was brooding in his heart. They had been texting back and forth during their years apart with their improvements and journey in volleyball. But seeing his power so evidently during their match almost took his breath away. His jumps, spikes, receives, and even last-minute sets for Atsumu was a beautiful artwork that was years in the making. </p><p>Kageyama was proud to be his rival.</p><p>There was a knock on his bedroom door. He just remembered that he was meant to be annoyed. </p><p>“Kageyama!” Hinata’s voice cheerily called. </p><p>“What,” he grunted back.</p><p>“We’re going down for breakfast,” he replied, not fazed by his tone, “want to join us?”</p><p>“‘kay,” he grunted shortly. Kageyama heard his footsteps retreating back to the living room. He rolled out of bed and saw his tired eyes reflected in the mirror. He groaned and threw on a hoodie and sweats before making his way out to find all three of them standing and chatting. </p><p>He glared purposefully at Hinata, who caught a whiff of his ill intention and hid behind Atsumu. </p><p>“W-what Kageyama, wanna fight me?” He intensely frowned at him. Atsumu and Bokuto just continued to bicker while Kageyama directed his frustration at him. </p><p>“Yes actually, I do,” he bluntly stately.</p><p>“Why are you so grumpy?” </p><p>“I wonder why,” moving closer to Hinata, who now gripped at Atsumu’s sides even harder. Atsumu instinctively repositioned himself so it was harder for Kageyama to reach out and grab him. </p><p>“I’m not scared of you, Kageyama!” He peeked from behind his back and started to giggle. </p><p>“Come here, Hinata, I wanna teach you what it means to use your indoor voice,” he crossed his arms, waiting for him to comply, “because apparently you like to wake up everyone with your annoying voice.” </p><p>“Oh come on Tobio-kun, he’s just excited to be here and see you too!” Atsumu smiled a little too arrogantly for Kageyama’s taste, as if his smile could bring world peace.</p><p>“Tch.”</p><p>“Kageyama!” Bokuto strode over and patted him on his back, “let’s get you food and you’ll feel better.”</p><p>"Don't forget to lock the door Bokkun, ya always forget," Atsumu called out, rolling his eyes. </p><p>Kageyama was now being pushed out of the flat as if he was the problem. And that did not help with his mood at all. He sighed and glanced at Hinata who caught his side eye and stuck out his tongue. </p><p>
  <em>Okay, that’s it.</em>
</p><p>This started their familiar chase, as they stumbled down the stairs. Hinata dodged any of his attempts at grabbing him, laughing gleefully as he did so. </p><p>“Come here, I won’t hurt you!” Kageyama lied.</p><p>When they reached the dining hall, Hinata found Sakusa resting on a beanbag and peacefully eating his breakfast.</p><p>“Omi-san!” Hinata quickly ran to him for protection.</p><p>“Oi, don’t be so loud in the morning.” Was the first thing he said to him. Kageyama wholeheartedly agreed.</p><p>“Sorry sorry,” he flopped down on his favorite bean bag and watched Kageyama do the same opposite of him before continuing, “how’s your new roommates! Why aren’t you eating with them?” </p><p>He just shrugged, “they’re just around, I don’t know. I haven’t really talked to them.” </p><p>Now Atsumu and Bokuto arrived, Atsumu took a seat beside Hinata and Bokuto next to Sakusa. </p><p>“Are they up to your standards, Omi-kun?” Atsumu smirked.</p><p>“Better than you could ever be.”</p><p>“So who are they?” Hinata interjected before Atsumu could give a piece of his mind, “is Yaku or Kōrai with you?”</p><p>Sakusa shook his head, “I think they’re staying with Ushijima on the fourth. One of my roommates is some big shot from Argentina. The other is Aran.”</p><p>“Oooh! Who’s the one from Argentina?”</p><p>“Dunno, he just arrived last night,” he paused to sip his drink, “I didn’t really talk to him yet.” </p><p>“Is he downstairs yet?” Hinata’s eyes traveled around the hall, catching the eye of Kōrai who sat with Ushijima. He gave a tiny wave before continuing his search.</p><p>“Don’t think so,” Sakusa now sounded tired from the many questions and kept his reply brief. </p><p>Atsumu poked Hinata at his side, “stop disturbing him, he’s daydreaming about when’s the next time he can clean his toilet.” </p><p>Sakusa only gave a deathly glare while Atsumu guffawed, his laughter echoing throughout the hall. Bokuto just yawned loudly and stood up to order their breakfast for them. Hinata started scolding Atsumu for pestering Sakusa, while Kageyama nodded off on his beanbag. It was a typical morning for them, yet, something odd was looming and festering in Hinata’s heart. A certain precognition of events to come.</p><p>But he was unsure why. </p><p>“Oh, that’s him,” Sakusa nudged his head at the direction of the stairs behind Hinata.</p><p>Hinata turned around and found the person in question.</p><p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p><p>His heart faltered for a moment when recognition settled. </p><p>
  <em>I need to get out of here. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>had to deal with someone who had stolen my main work and that was tiring but here’s an upload, hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. brittle strength</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>they meet.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy this thicc boi.</p><p>Rating: fluff and mainly angst. Mentions of blood and all that gore stuff.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fujiwara felt like a kid on Christmas.</p><p>The biting cold warmed by wooly socks and hot chocolate; the anticipation of unwrapping gifts and of traditional movie marathons. The fairy lights draped along with the dark arched windows and the crackling of firewood. Each breath in and out has a lingering taste of cinnamon and the prior feast of meat.</p><p>He had arrived last night very aware that Hinata was in a flat below him. He barely introduced himself before unpacking and settling in his room. The proximity after many years was an odd mixture of nostalgia and need, almost bringing him to unsolicited tears. He wanted to see him. Desired to hear the pained gasps and feel the warmth of his blood that flows unrestrained. All caused by his own hand. </p><p>Yes, there is very little doubt that he does miss him. The <em>tick tock-</em>ing from the clock thrumming along with his anticipation that was deprived and unfulfilled for many years. </p><p>Fujiwara did not sleep well that night.</p><p>He awoke with a racing heart; excitement pulsing through his veins. As he gracefully made his way down to the dining hall, his eyes analyzed every inch of the area. Searching for his neatly tied yet preciously fragile present. </p><p>He found him surrounded by his friends and his supposed other teammates. Kageyama was asleep, his other friends were chatting enthusiastically but quietly around him. And in the very next second, Hinata had turned around and caught his eye. Pink lips forming an ‘o’ and his eyes startled with recognition. Fujiwara’s own palms were forming sweat as he cherished every fraction of his reaction. He then saw the creases of his forehead and the anger in his fists. He took a few more steps down to reach the ground and saw his body tremble. Hinata’s entire aura was screaming to run.</p><p>It was the emotion of utter fear.</p><p>And all Fujiwara did was made his presence known. </p><p>There was no need for thought as he approached his table. Hinata’s eyes and mouth widened with further disbelief. A hand gravitated towards the arm of his blonde friend sitting beside him. It was grabbed in a painful grip; his veins protruded, enraged and afraid. </p><p>“Hinata?” His friend murmured, confusion laced in his tone. </p><p>When he reached their table, he cheerfully introduced himself. He saw Hinata startle, perhaps his voice took him down a certain memory lane. One that he most probably tried to avoid with all his strength. The out-of-body experience as his friends introduced themselves in an easy-going manner. Yet his whole world was suddenly flipped and torn apart right at that very moment. Fujiwara briefly wondered how that must feel.</p><p>There was a sudden scramble for balance as Hinata stood up too quickly from his beanbag. His breaths came in short pants. His blonde friend, who he now knew as Atsumu, frowned at him.</p><p>“You’re not gonna have breakfast? Bokkun’s buying us food right now.”</p><p>“I...” he wildly searched for something to say, but it seemed as though his mind was failing to form sentences, “I need to...”</p><p>“What is it?” Atsumu’s hand found Hinata’s, which was slightly trembling, “you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”</p><p>Hinata’s gaping mouth closed and he shook his head, finally looking at Fujiwara who was stood nearby. Watching him. Taking in every bit of his movements, emotions, thoughts. </p><p>He averted his gaze before mumbling, “I don’t feel good. I have to go, sorry.” </p><p>He ripped his hand away from Atsumu’s firm grip and he turned around to run away.</p><p>“Hinata?” Fujiwara called out. He saw him flinch. “Hope you feel better soon.”</p><p>He tensely nodded once without looking back before quickly making his way back to his flat. Atsumu looked like he wanted to follow him, but was holding back to give him space. Kageyama was now finally awake from the commotion and he dazedly watched Hinata’s retreating figure.</p><p>“Where’s he going?” He sleepily mumbled, his eyes barely cracked open. </p><p>Atsumu shrugged, “dunno, he’s acting weird,” he then gave a warm yet strained smile to Fujiwara who was just hovering above them in a happy bliss, “sorry about that. Please sit down!” He patted at the beanbag Hinata previously occupied.</p><p>“Huh? Who’s here?” Kageyama’s hoarse voice questioned.</p><p>“My roommate,” Sakusa answered without looking away from his phone. </p><p>Kageyama’s gaze settled on him as Fujiwara accepted Atsumu’s offer and took a seat opposite of Kageyama. As if the cogs in his brain finally turned on, Fujiwara saw him visibly blanch in realization.</p><p>“<em>You,” </em>he started, Atsumu’s face lit up in shock from his aggressive tone. Sakusa merely looked up from his phone and stared, “what- are you doing here? You promised. You promised him.”</p><p>At the mention of Hinata, Kageyama’s gaze flickered away towards the direction of their flat. </p><p>“Uh, Kageyama? What’s going on? Do you know him?” Atsumu prompted uncertainly. His mind was trying to connect the dots between Hinata’s odd behavior and Kageyama’s tensed accusation.</p><p>“I’m just back to play volleyball,” Fujiwara explained, stating the obvious.</p><p>“But, <em>how? </em>How could you come back? After all these years, Hinata- he was doing better and now- <em>you ruined it</em>!” He shouted the last three words and paused, breathing hard. It was silent for a minute. Kageyama could hardly believe it. He was just reminiscing mere minutes ago on Hinata’s journey and strength as he recovered from <em>him. </em>The monster that drove Kageyama crazy, that planted images of Hinata’s broken body. So still. Coated in dried blood. His chest seemed to be unmoving, no matter how much he begged him to wake up. </p><p>He was so sure.</p><p>So sure he had lost him. But he got him back, he was better; he was an orange, pink and purple sunset amidst the grey sky. Yet it was a fragile painting, he knew. He knew he needed more time.</p><p>But this very monster decided to ruin a finishing painting, spilling black ink and blood onto it with no feelings of apologies. The delicate lines so carefully stitched together—ruined. </p><p>
  <em>I can’t lose you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not again.</em>
</p><p>Kageyama honestly felt nauseous. </p><p>When he continued speaking, he sounded like he was on the brink to start yelling and throwing punches, “how can you even show your face? You need to leave, you need to do something. Anything. So you never show your face again, just like you promised, <em>Kato.” </em>Kageyama spat the name, the one Fujiwara faked many years ago in a certain basement with Hinata bleeding out beside him. </p><p>“Kato?” Atsumu repeated quietly.</p><p>Fujiwara briefly closed his eyes and relished in the wave of welcomed nostalgia.</p><p>“Hm,” he opened his eyes and found Kageyama angrily glaring at him, “I can’t do that. I’m here just like you to play. ‘Sides, this is my last game, so I’d rather not leave. Don’t worry about it, I won’t do anything.” </p><p>
  <em>Or much.</em>
</p><p>Kageyama mirthlessly laughed, “tell me why I don’t believe you.”</p><p>“You have every reason not to,” Fujiwara sighed and tried to find things to say to calm the growling dog down before he exposed too much information about his past-time activities, “We’re all here to play volleyball and I’ve really been looking forward to this. Don’t worry about me, I wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin it<em>.</em>”</p><p>Kageyama listened to the words that easily slipped out of his mouth. Trying to reassure him, hoping to suppress his boiling anger. His hands curled into a fist. His eyes never leaving the face that basically told him to <em>back down. It’s okay. I’m not a threat. </em>But all he wanted to do was hurt him. He was no longer the 16-year old boy who didn’t know how to throw a good punch or two.</p><p>Hinata was no longer the 16-year old boy who was resting on his hospital bed, barely alive. He remembered the bandages and scars and pain accumulated just from the few days he had been with Fujiwara. Unwilling taken. Yet he begged Kageyama not to do anything, not to call the police because he didn’t want to relive the moment again and again. </p><p>But here he was.</p><p>Making Hinata relive the moment. Making Kageyama recollect the despair and agony he felt as he searched blindly for his missing friend.</p><p>Kageyama was now sure he was about to puke on everyone’s breakfast. </p><p>“Oi, where’s Hinata?” Bokuto finally returned with a tray of food, unknowingly interrupting the battle between Fujiwara and Kageyama. “Oh who’s this?” </p><p>“Fujiwara Kenji,” he said pleasantly before standing up, “anyways, I think I should go now. I have a breakfast appointment with my father. I just wanted to say hi.”</p><p>He gave a small smile, “it was good to see you, Kageyama.” </p><p>Kageyama almost growled at him in reply. His fingertips itching to close around his throat and squeeze until Fujiwara was blue in the face. He intensely watched him leave, his confidence and arrogance still annoyingly exuded from his every move. Once satisfied he was gone, he let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in. His teammates were slyly keeping an eye on him, probably wondering what on earth that was all about. </p><p>He needed a breather.</p><p>“Sorry, I need to take a walk,” he mumbled quietly before getting up to leave.</p><p>“Wah-wait! Kageyama!” Atsumu yelled, trying to get his attention. He was hurriedly jogging to catch up to him. </p><p>“What is it?” He snapped. His head was starting to pound and Atsumu wasn’t helping with his problem.</p><p>“I-“ he took a few deep breaths, “who was that? You called him Kato? And what’s got you all in a twist? What did that fella <em>do?</em>”</p><p>Kageyama just ignored his questions and continued to walk until he was outside and the cold breeze hit his face. The icy air that was thoroughly inhaled by him somewhat helped with his headache. He felt a few dews of raindrops, warning them that there was a storm coming. </p><p>Atsumu followed him, desperate to know answers. He waited impatiently. Usually by now he’d snap and ask for answers. Pronto. But something about Kageyama’s expression made him hold his tongue.</p><p>“Do you remember the story about the Shiratorizawa coach as the mastermind of an alleged kidnapping of some kid?” Kageyama finally broke the silence. </p><p>Atsumu was put off by this random question, “yeah, that old coach died recently didn’t he? But what about it? What’s that gotta do with anythin’?”</p><p>Kageyama briefly glanced at him, wondering if he should even say it. But someone needed to know. Someone needed to look out for him, as much as Kageyama would. And he somehow knew Atsumu would do anything to protect him. </p><p>“Hinata was that kid,” Kageyama revealed, “and that guy, was the guy who did the deed.”</p><p>Atsumu just blankly stared at him as he processed this.</p><p>
  <em>Well, this is a terrible development.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>In.</p><p>Out.</p><p>Breathe.</p><p>Slowly. </p><p>Wash, rinse, repeat. </p><p>Hinata was leaning against his bedroom door, having flopped on the floor as soon as he arrived. His head hung as he took deep breaths, hands clutched around his favorite souvenir from Brazil; a small volleyball soft toy wearing sunglasses and a cute smile. </p><p>It reminded him of the sunny days at the beach; of the odd mixture of being out of his comfort zone yet feeling liberated at the same time. It was a safe bubble of stumbling through his broken Portuguese, savoring new flavors, bonding with his new roommate, of late-night calls to Kageyama. They both realized very quickly that they couldn’t wrap around the idea of the time differences and even needed Yachi to constantly remind them when was the best time to call. </p><p>Yes, they grudgingly admit that they perhaps weren’t very bright. But that’s what made them click; their inherent instinct to become better in volleyball never died down through the years. That is the common language they shared. They were hungry for the same goal. And in Brazil was where he took risky leaps to reach this goal— oddly safe and warm in the arms of the unknown. </p><p>But Hinata definitely did not feel safe now.</p><p>Instead, he felt like his life was one big deadly joke. Kato, or who now revealed himself as Fujiwara, suddenly ripped through his veil of recovery and made an unwanted appearance. And every nerve in his body screamed at him to run away.</p><p>
  <em>But where can I go?</em>
</p><p>His fists were clenched even tighter until the point it hurt. His sense of hopelessness becoming more prominent by the minute. He closed his eyes and slowly lowered himself onto the ground, resting his head on the cool marble ground. Hinata gathered his thoughts in strategic and logical points, reminiscent of his hours spent in therapy:</p>
<ol>
<li>Fujiwara is back.</li>
<li>Hinata is in shock and might puke any second.</li>
<li>He feels helpless.</li>
</ol><p>A mirthless laugh was let out as he went over the three points.</p><p>
  <em>That was useless. </em>
</p><p>He changed track and wondered what he could do about these crescendo of emotions that pushed him to the edge of his brittle sanity. </p>
<ol>
<li>Accept the fact that he’s back. </li>
<li>Inform someone who knows about his situation.</li>
<li>Acknowledge the fact that he’s older now and not the same naive boy he was many years ago.</li>
</ol><p>But Hinata did not feel any older. He very much felt like the 16-year old who was dragged to a basement and tortured until he lost sense of who, where, what he was. Fujiwara towering over him, softly and smoothly whispering his admiration of the blood that spilled from his open wounds. The sharp knives, the heavy blows of metal, the powerful fists— they were all sensations embedded in his very soul. Silence so overbearing when he was alone, that he was sure he could hear the blood rushing through his veins and some dripping out on to the vile floor. Smells of his own puke, piss, blood, bile, death; it took weeks for him to truly feel clean when he was finally released and found himself in the hospital.</p><p>And now the silence was threatening again. It was no longer hues of soft blues and purples— it was a striking red and lurking black. Ready to bite him. And he was weak.</p><p>So very weak.</p><p>A soft knock on his door made him gasp. A million thoughts crashed into his head. Hinata was convinced that Fujiwara was outside the door and ready to finish the job. </p><p>“Hinata,” Kageyama’s voice gently called out for him, “may I come in?”</p><p>Hinata just whimpered, unable to form a sentence. </p><p>“Hinata?”</p><p>He slowly lifted himself from the floor, his steps felt heavy as he finally unlocked the door. Kageyama quietly stepped into his room and closed the door behind him, making sure he locked it. His dark eyes were hesitant as they searched Hinata’s flushed and sunken face. Warm and large hands found his and pulled Hinata towards Kageyama, enveloping him into a tight hug. </p><p>Hinata found himself able to breathe. It was safe. It was warm. It was good.</p><p>“He’s back,” Hinata croaked out against his chest. His throat felt dry.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kageyama murmured, his voice low and soothing.</p><p>“I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>He just hummed in reply, but his grip became more firm around him. </p><p>“I don’t wanna make a big deal out of it, I’m different now. I’m supposed to be stronger. But I don’t- I don’t know why I don’t feel like that anymore. Seeing him made me remember why... why I’m so messed up in the head in the first place. Why sometimes I have to lock myself in the bathroom and remind myself to count to ten, to breathe, and I can’t even tell Atsumu why I’m taking longer than usual and-“</p><p>Hinata could feel warm tears forming.</p><p>“This is so messed up, I hate it. I hate feeling so weak."</p><p>“Hinata, you’re the strongest person I know,” Kageyama muttered softly yet firm, “just this morning, I was thinking about the time you were about to leave for Brazil and I remembered how I was so amazed by your bravery. I seriously admire your strength, Hinata. You’re honestly amazing in every way.”</p><p>Hinata snorted wetly in amusement, “I don’t feel like that.”</p><p>“I know you don’t, but I’m going to keep telling you that until you finally realize your strength.”</p><p>There was a small pause. The sounds of Hinata's heavy and stuttering breaths can be heard as his tears began to wane. </p><p>“What should I do? What does he want from me?” Hinata voice was now barely a whisper— vulnerable.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Kageyama replied honestly, “we’ll figure it out together."</p><p>Hinata just nodded, his arms wrapped around Kageyama even tighter.</p><p>“Thank you,” Hinata whispered, “for...” he trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence. </p><p>
  <em>For being here? For understanding him? For making him feel safe? </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Kageyama murmured back;</p><p>“I’ll always be here.”</p><p>That’s how the rest found them a few hours later. Asleep in each other’s arms. Both needing to know that they had each other’s backs, that they were alive and present. </p><p>And that they will be okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I ain't never seen two pretty best friends </p><p>also, this took me so long to finish. I literally almost gave up on this fic and was aboutta to delete it, that was how frustrated I was with this chapter. But it's all g now, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Please do leave a comment, I love reading all of y’all thoughts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. blue ink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Young Fujiwara's lesson.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: WARNING there's some disturbing themes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fujiwara Kenji’s huge backyard consisted of flowers, bushes, plants, ponds, a basketball court, a neighboring tennis court, a swimming pool, and anything an adventurous kid could ever want. It was a vast land; it gave him the freedom to stroll and run and dance. His butler and other staff would joyfully watch him and made sure he doesn’t get hurt. They would, of course, be heavily reprimanded if the Fujiwara empire’s only heir would be in any sort of danger.</p><p>When Fujiwara was six years old, he killed his first animal. </p><p>It was a yellow little butterfly. It gracefully landed on his palm. His curious eyes watched it flutter its wings that were beautiful under the sunlight. There was a warm glow that surrounded it just like shining gold. </p><p>Fujiwara was completely in awe. He fought hard not to move, feeling his arms strain from the effort. He was sitting cross-legged on the neatly trimmed grass. His pants were definitely muddy and he absentmindedly wondered if his mother would scold him for the mess he had made of himself.</p><p>Another lazy flutter of wings.</p><p>He instinctively knew that it was about to take off, perhaps to now land on a flower nearby. But he didn’t want it to go. So he quickly closed his palm to ensure it wouldn’t leave. That it would stay because he wanted it to. </p><p>A small gasp left his mouth when Fujiwara realized he had crushed the little butterfly. He opened his hand to find it dead, but there was surprisingly very little blood or mess. He let it drop on to the ground and wiped any remains away on his already dirtied pants. </p><p>Fujiwara observed its dead body. He didn’t feel anything as his eyes took in its mangled body.</p><p>But, he was only six years old. He was only a curious innocent boy. And he had friends who were just as curious and innocent as him. </p><p>One day, his father had a colleague over at their mansion, his son was dragged along. Fujiwara was delighted as no other kid has ever been invited over before, albeit the guest being five years older than him. He quickly bounded towards the older and taller boy as soon as he entered his home and gave his friendly greetings.</p><p>“Hello! I’m Fujiwara Kenji!” He exclaimed with strong enthusiasm and confidence. The older kid warily studied his face and sought approval from his own father before answering.</p><p>“Takeshi,” he murmured. Immediately he was being dragged into the massive living room by Fujiwara, who was rambling on the many games they could play, the junk food that was stored in the kitchen, and his garden outside they could discover together. </p><p>Takeshi felt a little overwhelmed by his eagerness, but willingly complied with whatever Fujiwara desired. Their first encounter was one filled with basketball (though Takeshi was marginally better due to his height and strength), computer games, ice cream, and watching Fujiwara’s favorite movie.</p><p>“Hey, what do you like to eat for dinner?” Fujiwara asked, now that it was dinner time and night was starting to settle.</p><p>“What do you like?” Takeshi asked back.</p><p>“Hm,” his face scrunched as he scrambled for an answer, “fried chicken and potatoes with gravy!” </p><p>Takeshi gave a small smile, “then, that’s what I’d like to eat too.”</p><p>It was safe to say that they had become friends; one where Takeshi felt the need to help and protect Fujiwara, while Fujiwara himself strung him along to whatever mischievous ideas he had. Takeshi was always there to aid him; whether it was to steal a freshly baked cookie for Fujiwara from the local bakery shop (although Fujiwara had access to all the money in the world), to beat up some guys who had made fun of Fujiwara’s attire, or to play even more computer games.</p><p>They practically grew up together, especially when Takeshi’s father became an important partner for the Fujiwara empire. Takeshi was frequently over at Fujiwara’s house to entertain him. Takeshi learned from early on that Fujiwara was as stubborn as a mule. If he desired a certain outcome, he would strive for it again and again until he achieves it. It didn’t matter what the goal was: whether it was a school grade or a toy. It was a quality that Takeshi had both come to love and hate. </p><p>When Fujiwara was nine years old and Takeshi fourteen; they had killed their first animal together. </p><p>Takeshi merely helped him catch the small fluffy bunny that was bounding happily around Fujiwara’s backyard. Fujiwara yelled gleefully as he now roughly and tightly clutched the bunny in his hands. He was observing it; a different aura now settled upon his face as Fujiwara’s eyes skimmed over its nervous eyes, flickering tail, white body. Takeshi almost shivered in this sudden change, he had seen glimpses before but it was now more prominent. A certain bloodlust hidden in the depths of his calculative eyes— an unusual expression for a mere nine-year-old.</p><p>“Do you have a pocket knife?” Fujiwara suddenly asked, his dark eyes now settling on Takeshi.</p><p>“Uh, no. Why?” A frown slowly carving its way through Takeshi’s face.</p><p>Fujiwara casually shrugged, “just wanted to play with the bunny a little more.”</p><p>“With a knife?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Why?” Takeshi repeated his question. </p><p>“Didn’t I already say?” He drawled, tone as if Takeshi was asking a stupid question, “just wanted to see it squirm a little more.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>Takeshi knew he was no saint in his mind and morals, that was pretty much guaranteed by his own father’s lessons with him, but Fujiwara was very much unaware of his different way of thinking.</p><p>“I have a pen?”</p><p>Fujiwara considered it for a moment and immediately a grin lit upon his face, “yeah, sure, I think that’ll work!” </p><p>He uncapped and handed over his favorite blue pen. Fujiwara now gripped the pen in one hand and the bunny in the other.</p><p>One.</p><p>Two.</p><p>Two stabs of the pen told Fujiwara that it required a lot of strength to poke through, considering the bluntness of the pen. By Fujiwara’s third attempt, it was rammed through the bunny’s side, inducing desperate squeals as blood started to drip. Fujiwara roughly pulled it out to stab it through three more times, the whimpers never lessening. </p><p>It sounded quite pathetic and distraught. </p><p>But Takeshi didn’t quite mind Fujiwara’s curiosity, instead, he enjoyed observing the building fire in his expression. Fujiwara’s wandering eyes hungrily took in the mess of blood and spilling guts he was making, his hand still clenched around the dying animal. There was a playful smile starting to form around Fujiwara’s lips that were being mirrored on Takeshi’s own lips.</p><p>Blue ink and crimson blood. </p><p>Mixed to form a dark and almost black liquid that painted Fujiwara’s hands.</p><p>That was their very first painting.</p><p>But not their last.</p>
<hr/><p>By the time Fujiwara was eleven, he decided that he hated the idea of homework. It was a terrible and stupid idea and he wished his teachers would agree with him. It kept him up at night when he much rather prefers to watch television or play computer games.</p><p>“We really do need to get him checked out,” he heard his mother say one night as he poured over his homework in the study room nearby. Her voice was slightly muffled, but Fujiwara still could make out what she was saying, “I don’t think we should hold it off any longer.” </p><p>His mother’s words distracted him and made him perk up. Fujiwara was now listening to the muffled words and wondered who they were talking about.</p><p>“He’s just a curious and normal eleven-year-old,” his father sounded drained, as though he had repeated this very sentence before, “he’ll grow out of it.”</p><p>“He is creating a whole collection, it’s not <em>normal. </em>”</p><p>Fujiwara now glanced outside to look at the area he segregated to dig graves for the animals that were unlucky enough to end up in his backyard. He did not find it odd though. He thought it was quite a fun past-time that he liked to share with Fujiwara.</p><p>“When I was eleven, I liked to collect plastic cap bottles for no reason. Kids do weird things all the time.”</p><p>“Did you just compare dead animals to plastic cap bottles?” His mother’s tone was now critical and firm, “I think you’re gravely missing the point.”</p><p>“Okay,” his father sounded resigned, “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“I can’t help <em>but </em>be worried.”</p><p>“And I’m telling you I got this. Don’t worry,” his voice softer now as he tried to assure her. A few moments later, there was a knock on his study door. Fujiwara quickly pretended to be doing homework. The door opened and his father softly called out to him.</p><p>“Kenji?” </p><p>Fujiwara looked away from his half-finished homework before answering, “yes, Father?”</p><p>“May I speak to you for a moment?”</p><p>He nodded and gave his father his full attention.</p><p>“Your mother is concerned about those animals out there,” he nudged his head towards the backyard, “do you know why?</p><p>“Because they’re not very pretty?”</p><p>His father gave a small laugh at that and then lowered his voice before continuing, “no,” a particular glint appeared in his father’s eyes, “because you’re not hiding them very well.”</p><p>
  <em> Hide them?  </em>
</p><p>A wave of questions crashed into his head. His mind too young to comprehend the very message that his father had intended. But it turns out, on that coming Friday, he had finally understood what his father meant.</p><p>That dying is an ugly thing. Something to be private and something that demands closed doors. </p><p>His father had taken him, at the ripe age of eleven, to one of their many warehouses in the main city that Friday night. They arrived and he was guided into a secluded section that housed large goods upon the rows and rows of shelves standing on the sides. At his short height, everything looked more monumental to him. </p><p>They stepped into a small and ice-cold room that was dimly lit. In the center of it all was a man hung from his wrists that looked to be in his early twenties. There were two large and built men that crowded the helpless man, but what surprised him was a young boy that was sitting beside, watching the event as though it was entertainment.</p><p>“Takeshi?” Fujiwara called out.</p><p>Takeshi’s eyes widened and caught his. </p><p>“Fujiwara?” He breathed, equally surprised by his presence.</p><p>Takeshi stood up and came up to him, but haltered a few spaces apart.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Fujiwara finally asked after a pause.</p><p>“My... father wants me to learn the ins and outs of the business,” Takeshi mumbled, “...why are you here?”</p><p>“Just a little lesson,” his father answered, his hand was a tight grip on Fujiwara’s shoulder, “his first one at that.” </p><p>Takeshi nodded and gave a small bow when Fujiwara’s father passed him by. They settled at their seats, Fujiwara’s feet slightly dangling, not quite reaching the floor yet. Takeshi joined them, settling beside Fujiwara.</p><p>“This man before us is a mole that needs to be dealt with,” Fujiwara’s father began to explain in a hard tone. The young boy cautiously observed the scene, the man barely stirring to their presence. His right eye was swollen shut, his wrists scraped thoroughly, a split lip, his shirt torn and soaked with blood. Fujiwara didn’t mind the blood, but it was still a shock to see a human being treated like a wild animal. Like something less than the ant squashed under his overbearing shoe— as if he was someone who was meant to experience inferiority. </p><p>It was somewhat... nauseating and thrilling at the same time; a rollercoaster that had too many loops. </p><p>Fujiwara didn’t understand what was going on.</p><p>
  <em> Why is Father showing me all this?  </em>
</p><p>“He had tried to find cracks and ways to attain secured files to sell externally,” Fujiwara continued sounding uninterested, “usually I’d let others take care of it, someone as insignificant as him is not something I personally deal with. But I thought this was the perfect lesson to show you why you need to practice diligence. To not be arrogant with your relics. Nobody needs to know your hidden tendencies, nobody needs to know the devil. Your Mother doesn’t need to know either.” </p><p>His father now looked at him with a soft look yearning for acknowledgment, “do you understand me, son?”</p><p>“I need...” Fujiwara tried to connect the dots, “to be more careful? So Mother won’t be upset and worried about me either?”</p><p>His father hummed in agreement, “you will learn, bit by bit. I will teach you, so when you take over the empire, you will be ready to make hard decisions. And you will know how to remain diligent with each decision you make.”</p><p>“Okay, Father.”</p><p>“This is your first lesson, so pay attention.”</p><p>“Okay, Father.”</p><p>“Good,” he faced back to the two men who stood beside the hung man, “you may continue.” </p><p>The moments after was filled with echoing and overwhelming sounds of screams that rang in Fujiwara’s ears. He watched with wide eyes. He couldn’t look away from the hell that was being broken open right in front of him. </p><p>The wailing of a tortured animal. Never killed— just on the edge to ensure that this lesser being understands his place.</p><p>On that very Friday seventeen year ago;</p><p>Fujiwara experienced a lesson that stuck with him like a stubborn stain.</p><p>That day, at the age of eleven,</p><p>was his first death.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had to get over a writer’s block woops, that was painful to overcome.</p><p>BUT here’s another chapter AND happy holidays!! (And a happy new year)</p><p>This year was most probably tough for all of us, with covid hitting and disrupting so many things that we found normal. Our routine, our travel plans, our work, our studies. I hope everyone is doing okay now and will have a good holiday.</p><p>Stay safe.</p><p>I’ll see all of y’all next year :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. to be your cocoon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hinata needs a hug.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: fluff and angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Atsumu thought Hinata liked meat buns, having bought multiple after practice. </p><p>It was the end of their third practice with the whole national team. Atsumu had kept a keen eye on the man that was so repulsive, he was really close to socking him right up the nose. He and Kageyama were subtly by Hinata’s side as much as they could be, which made sense as they were his setters. Or, he thought it was subtle until Hinata privately snapped at them by the end of their first practice.</p><p>“Quit it,” Hinata intensely looked at both of them, making them feel like deers caught in headlights, “I’m not going to suddenly combust. I’m good. I’m fine. Thank you for looking out for me. But you’re both starting to make others suspicious.”</p><p>“We were jus-“ Atsumu started.</p><p>“Nobody kno-“ Kageyama protested.</p><p>“Which setter just sticks to their hitter throughout the whole game?” Hinata tried to put some sense in them, “and Atsumu, you’re not on the starting line, so what are you doing on the sidelines by the referee? I swear I thought you’d climb up his stand and throw him down just by how intense you were being. The coach almost kicked you out.”</p><p>“Nah, I was jus’ lookin’ out for the whole team, I promise I wasn’t doing anythin’,” Atsumu tried to convince him. A very poor attempt at that.</p><p>“And Kageyama, I almost tripped over you just because of how stuck you were to me,” Hinata glared at him, “do you want to get one of your starters injured by second practice?”</p><p>“Uh, no, I was just...” Kageyama mumbled, trailing off. A slight blush was forming on his cheeks.</p><p>Hinata huffed out a heavy sigh and gave them a soft smile, “thanks guys, for being there for me and making sure I’m safe. But I think I’ll be okay, just knowing you guys are around is enough for me.” </p><p>The two of them stood there, with their mouths slightly open, unsure what to say. Hinata’s smile turned even brighter.</p><p>“Come on,” he nudged both of them towards the exit, “let’s eat dinner. Bokuto-san must be grumpy by now.”</p><p>As they trudged on to dinner, Atsumu couldn’t stop staring at Hinata. The way his smile never stopped short of being genuine. The way he placed his warm hands on Bokuto-san’s arms to assure him that they were arriving at the restaurant soon. The way he carried himself in a way that exuded kindness, confidence, strength. He couldn’t help and admire his friend that somehow kept it together, even as he was dealt with a blow that would have knocked Atsumu off his feet. </p><p>When he had found out about Fujiwara’s sins, Kageyama had left him out by the cold to process the news. When he finally comprehended the situation, Atsumu had tried to barge into Hinata’s room to comfort him. But he stopped short outside his door when he heard the soft whispers from Kageyama and felt a little out of place. Kageyama was by him many years ago, it’s only fair that Kageyama had the right to be by his side now.</p><p>Atsumu felt completely useless. </p><p>That same night after dinner with just the four of them (Atsumu had graciously cooked for them, after hounding his brother for an easy recipe), Atsumu pulled Hinata aside. He wanted to say the many things that ran in his head: how he was sorry that he never realized, how he should have looked out for signs, how he wanted to kill Fujiwara in his sleep. But somehow no words came out. He just dumbly looked at Hinata’s expectant face, which was still slightly flushed and red from crying, and was at a loss on what to say.</p><p>
  <em>How do you comfort someone who had unforgivingly been the devil’s plaything?</em>
</p><p>Instead, it was Hinata who just pulled him into a hug and whispered, “I know, Kageyama told me... thank you.” </p><p>Atsumu just held him tighter, “I’m sorry,” Atsumu murmured, face deep in Hinata’s ruffled hair, “I’m so so sorry.”</p><p>Hinata just hummed and they stayed like that for a little while. </p><p>Yes, Atsumu was completely useless. Hinata was the stronger one between the two. He didn’t know how to help Hinata. So after their third practice ended, Atsumu immediately sought out to get meat buns from Hinata’s favorite store a few blocks away. When he arrived back, he found the rest of his roommates showered and lounging in the living room. Bokuto-san informed him that Hinata was already in bed. Atsumu went straight over to his room. </p><p>Hinata asked as he knocked on the door, “who is it?”</p><p>“It’s me,” Atsumu replied.</p><p>“One sec,” he called out. A few seconds later, his door opened to find him already changed into his pajamas and looking exhausted, “what’s up?” </p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu awkwardly scratched his neck with his free hand, “I bought us some meat buns. But ya look like you’re aboutta pass out. So don’t worry about it. I can just eat this, or if ya like, I can keep some for ya so ya can warm it up in the microwave tomorrow mornin’ for a snack. Or maybe...”</p><p>Atsumu stopped his rambling when he realized Hinata hadn’t replied. Hinata was instead tightly looking at the bag of meat buns clutched like a life line by Atsumu’s hand. </p><p>“Shou-kun,” he waved his free hand over Hinata’s face, “ya alright?”</p><p>Hinata snapped his eyes away and dazedly found Atsumu’s. He inhaled sharply. Once. Twice. His hand that was on his door handle started to tremble. </p><p>“I’m... okay,” Hinata replied tensely. </p><p>“Wait, what happened? Did I do somethin’? Did he do somethin’? Why do ya look like that?” Atsumu asked hurriedly.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Hinata mumbled, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, “give me a moment.”</p><p>Hinata closed his door with a soft thud. Atsumu was left outside his door, feeling a mountain of guilt dropping on him. He then heard soft whimpers and cries that further twisted Atsumu’s gut.</p><p>Atsumu finally realized that Hinata was the strongest person he knew, but he wasn’t invincible. He was a human being that had experienced something so terrible, so traumatic, and was still picking up the pieces and chasing his dream despite everything. Atsumu was just another fellow human being that could give him support and ease Hinata’s journey in any way he can.</p><p>After two minutes of deliberation, Atsumu knocked softly on the door, “Shouyo, I’m coming in.”</p><p>He found Hinata at the corner of his bed, a toy gripped in his hands. Atsumu quickly went over to him and hugged him.</p><p>“I’m s-sorry,” Hinata stuttered against his chest as he thoroughly sobbed, “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t w-want you to see me like this.”</p><p>“There’s nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout,” Atsumu soothed him in a low voice.</p><p>“But you went out to buy me buns,” he muttered.</p><p>Atsumu laughed gently, “it’s okay Shouyo, I can definitely eat for the both of us. Y’know how I am after practice.” </p><p>“No, no,” Hinata shook his head. “I can eat one, I was just... shocked. A certain memory that I tried to keep out came back to me.”</p><p>Hinata reached out and gingerly took a bun out.</p><p>“Shouyo, don’t force yourse-“</p><p>“I’m okay, I’m good,” Hinata insisted, wiping his tears away with his shirt before nibbling the bun, “it was a long time ago. I should be fine now. I just needed a moment.” </p><p>Atsumu took out a bun and nibbled on it too, glancing at Hinata.</p><p><em>What did Fujiwara do to make you feel like this? </em>Atsumu wondered, with his hatred for him growing even bigger. He was dying to know but he was equally afraid to learn the story. </p><p>“He...” Hinata slowly started, startling Atsumu (<em>can he read minds??</em>), as they sat side by side on his bed, “gave me meat buns when I was down there. I was really hungry and then he asked questions that I didn’t want to answer. And then... he hurt me.”</p><p>The meat bun suddenly turned sour in Atsumu’s mouth. </p><p>“But,” Hinata looked at him and gave a smile, brave as he always is. Atsumu almost started to stupidly tear up, “I got over it, and I’m good now. So thank you for the treat, Atsumu-san.”</p><p>Atsumu put away his meat bun, having lost his appetite, “thank you... for opening up to me. I dunno what to say, to go through that all alone and so young, I wish I...”</p><p>There were many things he wished for. To take away his pain, the memories, the panic. He wanted to take it all away. But here Hinata was, nipping the bun, looking grateful just for that and Atsumu’s company.</p><p>He truly didn’t deserve him.</p><p>Atsumu decided then that he would wait a while until he’d buy Hinata meat buns again. Maybe he’ll stick with Hinata’s favorite smoothie or bubble tea to cheer him up instead. And after cheering him up, maybe he’ll hunt Fujiwara down and give him a piece of his mind. </p><p>And fist. </p><p>Atsumu sighed and encased Hinata who looked tiny in his arms as Hinata continued to stubbornly nibble on his meat bun.</p><p>Yup, Hinata was probably the strongest and most forgiving human being Atsumu knew.</p><hr/><p>The anticipation is a heavy and lingering taste on Hinata’s tongue. </p><p>He was waiting for the devil to strike and for his luck to finally run out. By the end of the fourth week of practice, Hinata was on edge. His teeth were clenched, posture tensed, as he was smothered by anticipation.</p><p>Fujiwara was an expert tease.</p><p>The distance he kept between himself and Hinata was one that articulated a silent taunt, and one that constantly reminded Hinata that this transparent barrier can be crossed at any time. Before practice, Hinata would see glimpses of him at the mass hall, mingling with the other athletes. But it was his watchful eyes on Hinata that forced him to walk on a thread that was threatening to break.</p><p>The watchful eyes and shoulders that brush his became more intense during practice itself.  The sly sneer, the eager fingers that desired to hurt him; Hinata knew he was dangerous. But he couldn’t do anything about it. It was a ticking time bomb just aimed for him and no one else.</p><p>But that didn’t stop his friends from fussing over him. Atsumu and Kageyama would be around him constantly that Hinata had forgotten how life was before having an entire other being tied to his hip. He didn’t mind their concern, but it was difficult to pretend that everything was okay with them being walking reminders of the situation.</p><p>When Fujiwara finally caught him off-guard, it was somehow both expected and unexpected. </p><p>Hinata was having trouble sleeping on the night after their seventh week of practice. He felt his agitation crawling on his very skin, poking him awake. He just reached the mass hall that was quiet with little life at the dead hours of the night. </p><p>“Can’t sleep?” Fujiwara’s voice appeared from nowhere, making Hinata recoil with recognition. </p><p>
  <em>No thanks to you.</em>
</p><p>He turned around to face Fujiwara dead-on with a gaze that was defiant and one that he hoped emitted little to no fear. Hinata stiffly nodded— his tired eyes were scanning to find any way out of this conversation. </p><p>“I see you can’t sleep either,” Hinata’s tone sharp and brief. He absentmindedly wondered if the tension could cut the windows that encased the hall, allowing the cold wind to seep and mercilessly bask them in unforgiving ice. </p><p>“Was hoping to catch you,” Fujiwara shrugged casually as if it wasn’t the most terrifying and devastating thing Hinata could hear. </p><p>Hinata felt his heart pick up the pace but his tone remained uninterested when he replied, “I’m not surprised.”</p><p>He paused. It took him a few seconds to form a sentence where he was able to speak without stuttering. No fear.</p><p>“And you’ve finally caught up with me, what do you want from me now?”</p><p>“You know, it’s funny. I don’t really know what I want. I just know you’re in the picture though, looking pretty,” Fujiwara gave him a supposed award-winning smile. Hinata only felt cold shivers. </p><p>“You should talk to a therapist about it, didn’t know you could have a mid-life crisis so young,” Hinata said too sweetly. His hands curling into a fist, ready for a fight.</p><p>Fujiwara snorted at his snide comment, amused, “maybe I should one day. Wouldn’t that be a sight? The press would love to hear a story on the Fujiwara heir being mentally questionable, wouldn’t they?”</p><p>“I, personally, would just love to see the day when you’re nowhere near me. And the day when you actually kept your promises,” more venom was being injected into Hinata’s voice by the minute. “And now wouldn’t <em>that </em>be a sight.”</p><p>Fujiwara pleasantly smiled, “I really did miss you. I never forgot about you during my years abroad.”</p><p>Hinata stepped back in disgust, his face scrunched. “I’m not going to entertain you any longer, goodbye Fujiwara.”</p><p>He turned around to move back, Fujiwara suddenly grabbed his arm to hold him still. </p><p>“Hina-“</p><p>Hinata flinched and instinctively gave him a hard slap. The harsh sound resounding through the hall.</p><p>“Get <em>off me,” </em>Hinata spat. Fujiwara blinked back in surprise as he watched Hinata rush up the stairs and towards his apartment. His hand was raised to his face, where his cheeks still stung from the slap.</p><p>When Hinata reached the apartment, he quickly locked it and put his back towards the door, looking into the dimly lit living room. He had left the kitchen lights on after giving up on cooking himself his own meal when he realized that they didn’t have enough ingredients. </p><p>His throat felt choked up, he wanted to cry. He was scared of his own sharp words. Hinata wondered if he had offended Fujiwara in some way. What would he now do to him? Would he make his life even more of a living nightmare? </p><p>
  <em>But no, he deserved it. He deserved more than that. </em>
</p><p>He just-</p><p>needed a shoulder to cry on and for someone to tell him everything will be alright.</p><p>Hinata softly knocked on his door. Once. Twice. By his fifth knock, Kageyama opened his door. His hair was pointing in all directions and his eyes were half-open.</p><p>“‘nata? Whadsgoin’on? You ‘kay?” He mumbled in question.</p><p>“I...” Hinata’s eyes flickered everywhere and couldn’t really settle on Kageyama’s worried gaze, “just needed a hug. Is that okay?”</p><p>Kageyama didn’t ask anything else. He just pulled Hinata into his dark room and enveloped him into a tight warm hug. Hinata started to softly sob into his broad shoulders.</p><p>In this secure cocoon in the early hours of the morning, Hinata was determined about one thing:</p><p>He wasn’t about to be defeated by the stalking devil. After all those years spent building himself up again,</p><p>he was stronger than that.</p><p>Fujiwara will not be the death of him. </p><hr/><p>Bonus:</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you staring at?” Bokuto asked Atsumu who was daydreaming.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A clown,” Atsumu had glanced at him and absentmindedly replied.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re going to eat that?” He pointedly asked, referring to the tub of ice cream on Atsumu’s lap.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe,” Atsumu then suddenly asked, “you think I’m useless?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pretty much, why?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Great,” he huffed out a sigh. How is he ever gonna be helpful to Hinata? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Bokuto started, “how ‘bout that ice cream?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m back!!! :) sorry my schedule is packed and I was feeling overwhelmed. </p><p>But don’t worry, I’ve written the last two chapters so there will be regular updates from now on. Updates will be on Friday as always.</p><p>Thank you for sticking around!! And thank you to those who commented and inspired me to write again. You kept me going.</p><p>Fun fact: this was written months ago but I have a habit of writing the next chapter in advance first before posting. And it was the next chapter that I had my slump on so this was released much later than it should have been woops.</p><p>Also another fun fact: I write all my fics on the Notes app on my iPhone and then transfer it to my comp to edit. </p><p>Anyways, see ya in the next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. to be mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fujiwara's spiral</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: WARNING it gets graphic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The match between Argentina and Japan ended in a loss for the latter.</p><p>Fujiwara heard and <em> felt </em> the roars and blares of the fans from either side as the game ended with a blow of the whistle. The finality of the game was a powerful slap to his face— much like Hinata’s slap from many nights prior. It was a shock that took his breath away. </p><p>Yet, the brewing emotions of discontent, of incompleteness mainly came from the very fact that Hinata is functioning normally. Mingling happily with his friends and other teammates that doted on his enthusiasm and craved his high energy. The genuine smiles and laughter that made him grit his teeth every time— he was sure he had stress-induced cavities by now.</p><p>It was undeniable.</p><p>Hinata was doing better than he thought he would be. But he still tried to push him to the edge. Giving him side glances throughout practice, brushing past him during lunch, congratulating him with a firm pat when he performs a spectacular spike. But-</p><p>it. Just wasn’t enough.</p><p>Fujiwara wanted <em> more </em>.</p><p>And when he had him practically alone and all ready to strike. Hinata had rebounded and caught him off guard. He looked confident, practically fearless as he pushed him away. Denying him. As if he was a complete loser who got rejected by a long-time crush.</p><p>Needless to say, Fujiwara felt utterly pathetic.</p><p>On a night when he decided he was close to a screaming mess, he left the dorms and drove in his sleek car, seeking a way to relieve his mounting frustrations. He found the perfect target as he parked and walked down the dim streets— puffs of icy air visible from the icy weather. </p><p>It was a young fan of his who was bundled up in a thick jacket and scarf who had just finished working overtime. Completely naive. Innocent. Much like how Hinata had been the first time Fujiwara met him. </p><p>The poor young man was just what he needed. </p><p>It was just an unfortunate encounter for the fan, who was barely out of college, to have met Fujiwara Kenji on a bad night.</p><p>His enthusiasm seemed fruitless as he breathlessly exclaimed, “are you really Fujiwara? Fujiwara Kenji?”</p><p>“Yes,” he mustered up a smile that evokes warmth and trust, “would you like an autograph?”</p><p>The fan’s eyes widened so widely, Fujiwara briefly wondered if it would pop out of his own skull. </p><p>“A-are you sure? May I really have one?”</p><p>“Of course!” He assured him. “Do you have a pen and paper?”</p><p>While the fan fumbled around his bag, digging for said items, Fujiwara glanced to make sure that there weren’t any unwanted peeping individuals. He found a relatively empty street, understandable considering the late hour.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” the fan’s face was crestfallen, “I don’t have any paper or pen. Out of all days when I actually need it,” he grumbled the last sentence to himself. </p><p>
  <em> Time to strike. </em>
</p><p>Fujiwara smiled, this time it was genuine. “My apartment is nearby here, how about we quickly pop up and I can get that autograph for you?”</p><p>There was no need for him to convince the gullible man any further. His eyes were trusting and hopeful as if he was witnessing a wishing star that graced the night skies.</p><p>His trust was misplaced.</p><p>He led him to his car parked just around the corner and headed towards the apartment building that his Father owned. For situations just like this. Although it was usually work-related pesky problems. </p><p>The fan was vibrating with jitters and excitement— non-stop chatter spilled from his lips as he recalled Fujiwara’s own volleyball career. Fujiwara only nodded and smiled when called for it. But that didn’t deter the fan in any way, he was just happy to be in his presence.</p><p>Upon their arrival at his doorstep, the excitement in the air was heavy. The taste tangy with thirsty anticipation. But the poor fan was oblivious to the way his eyes glinted. Instead, he was eagerly absorbing every detail of the vast penthouse decorated with tasteful wood, marble, glass, and white— there was no doubt that if he had survived, it would have been quite a thrilling tale to tell his friends. </p><p>But Fujiwara knew they both were going to have a long night. Maybe it might teach him a little something about trust.</p><p>Maybe sweet naive innocence is what would kill him. </p><p>Either way, it would be too late by then.</p><hr/><p>There was one thing that Fujiwara despised. </p><p>And that was losing.</p><p>Fujiwara was taking a long walk post-match, post-failure. Their Olympic journey had officially ended, he was now no longer a volleyball player, he would have to step up and take over the empire.</p><p>As Father would have wanted.</p><p>He trudged to the apartment where the poor man awaited— half-dead and fully in pain. That man had become Fujiwara’s personal punching bag. Being strung up with spiked chains around his wrists above him, holding him up to strain on his tiptoes.</p><p>Just as his father had taught him.</p><p>There was an IV attached to a vein in his right arm. The cannula was left open, allowing his blood to flow in a gradual trickle. The blood collected obscenely just below his elbow joint and dripped into the filthy bucket below. </p><p>The man was shivering from pure pain, blood loss as well as the cold breeze that chilled his soaked clothes. The slit of the small windows situated high up in the ceiling was open to taunt him with the winter wind. </p><p>It had only been three days since he was taken but Fujiwara had already honored him with a broken nose, bruised ribs, two fractured fingers, a dislocated shoulder, and plenty of bruises here and there. The ex-fan was also pretty sure he had a sore throat from all the screaming. He last had sips of water two days ago and was never granted any sort of food.</p><p>The poor man knew he would die in this creepy room. And the executioner was no other than his volleyball idol.</p><p>Fujiwara Kenji now entered the room, disturbing the odd peace that had settled with the man. Fujiwara was not in a good mood. The fairytale ending he had hoped for himself and for Hinata was slipping laughably through his fingers.</p><p>He was a loser through and through.</p><p>And he simply had enough.</p><p>A sudden splash of ice-cold water forced a yelp out of him. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” Fujiwara greeted him coldly, his voice monotonous.</p><p>The man had no answer. His teeth were chattering, lips blue. </p><p>“Well, as for me, I had quite a disappointing day,” Fujiwara huffed, “can you believe your idol lost today? I lost... and that’s, it. My Father wants me to take over the empire so I ended my volleyball career with a low end.”</p><p>He laughed bitterly and started to pace in front of him. The hung man just watched him warily without a word. </p><p>“And not only that, the <em> very thing </em>I’ve been dying to have my hands on suddenly grew some common sense and a brain on top of that. And I just can’t touch him. I can’t do anything. He had shut me out. And there are eyes everywhere. A few of his friends hover him and watch me like a hawk ready for its kill. There’s really nothing I can do. I’ve waited nine years for nothing. I should have killed him on the spot.”</p><p>Fujiwara stopped pacing and stood right in front of him. His crazed eyes seemed eerily steady as he appraised him. </p><p>“But don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake twice,” there was a hint of a smile on his lips.</p><p>“Please,” the man finally spoke. His voice was rough from disuse. There was the lingering taste of stale blood that coated his tongue. “P-please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I just... wanna go home.”</p><p>Fujiwara let out an amused snort.</p><p>“This <em> is </em>your home. This is your final resting place. As I said, I’m not about to make the same mistake twice.”</p><p>The poor man just whimpered in response, he didn’t have the energy to even release much-needed tears. The stench of his stale blood finally made Fujiwara gag.</p><p>“Man, you need a shower,” his voice rough with disgust. He pinched his nose and made his way over to a wooden table that held the tools, his toys. So diverse in shape, color, width, length. But Fujiwara stuck with his favorite: a recently sharpened knife and a gun with a silencer for backup that he pocketed in a hidden holster strapped around his right leg. </p><p>A green hose laid nearby and he put it on full blast before watering down the half-dead man. The man gave a soft grunt when the ice-cold water hit him. Combined with the consistent breeze coming from the windows above, he was definitely not too happy. He was shivering violently, his body too weak to provide him any ounce of warmth. The stale blood, now a watery pink, was following the trail into a drain behind him. This room was especially made for situations like this— Fujiwara’s father loved to be prepared. </p><p>“I h-hope y-y-you rot in h-hell,” he stuttered through chattering teeth. </p><p>Fujiwara snorted, “you’re not the first one to tell me that. You gotta be more creative than that.”</p><p>Fujiwara sniffed the air and was happy to have somewhat reduced the awful stench. </p><p>“I’m glad the shower did you good,” he commented. Fujiwara threw the hose to the side with a thud and sauntered towards him. Each step on the soaked floor quenched and echoed. </p><p>“Now,” his hand grabbed the hung face and tilted it towards him. The poor man’s eyes were barely focused, looking at Fujiwara through half-lidded eyes, “I think I’ve had enough of you.”</p><p>“Let’s end this tonight,” his tone was hard and final.</p><p>“P-please, my moth-th-er needs someone to t-t-take care o-of her,” the man weakly begged. There was a trail of blood spilling from his mouth and decorating his chin. The IV is still painfully sticking out from his arm. </p><p>“You should have thought of that before following a stranger home,” there was no sympathy evident in his words. Fujiwara was too tired and frustrated to even feel such a thing. </p><p>The only thing on his mind was how to get to Hinata. How to break him again. Fujiwara could not accept that this would be the end. He could not accept failure.</p><p>“Please g-give me a ch-chance,” he still continued to beg, “I w-won’t t-tell anyone. Please.”</p><p>“Has the few days you’ve been here made you deaf?” Fujiwara harshly asked, “did you not hear me when I said I won’t make the same mistake again? Did you not hear me when I said that I had enough of you? You’re pissing me off. And I don’t appreciate that.”</p><p>Fujiwara grabbed at the IV and brutally tugged it out. The man winced in pain at the stabbing sensations. He then unchained him and let him fall like a useless object that has lost its purpose. He fell on his dislocated shoulder, screaming as he did so. He cradled the arm, blood flowing steadily from the hole made by the IV, his vision covered with dark spots. </p><p>“How about we play a game?” Fujiwara taunted as the man lay panting on the floor, “if you can get past me and out that door,” Fujiwara pointed at the door behind him, “I will let you live.”</p><p>The poor man struggled to stand up. His legs felt somehow both heavy and jelly-like. His key to freedom was in the grasp of his hands, yet it was as if he was gripping at quicksand— he was swiftly losing any sliver of control he had. Fujiwara impatiently watched him, a frown deeply carving his handsome features. </p><p>“Where’s the fight left?” Fujiwara’s fingers slowly curled and uncurled around his knife, “I thought your poor mother will miss you if you died?”  </p><p>“I h-hate you,” the man mumbled incoherently, breathing deeply and preparing himself for what was to come. </p><p>“Speak up,” Fujiwara commanded.</p><p>“I HATE YOU,” he roared before pushing himself up and charging towards Fujiwara. He was caught off guard and slipped on the wet floor, seconds later the man had him pinned down. His hand gripped around the hand that yielded the knife, using all the strength he had left to grab it out of his hand. </p><p>“Where did you get this energy from?” Fujiwara sounded hysterical, bordering on laughter. He was somehow amused at the sight of a half-dead man fighting for his life. Fujiwara threw him off and got to his feet. But he quickly realized that the knife was now yielded by the other man, who was leaning heavily on the dirty wall at the other side of the room. </p><p>Fujiwara started to laugh. </p><p>“You’re a dead man,” Fujiwara stated, before grabbing a metal hammer from the tool table and throwing it at the man, who was too weak and slow to dodge the attack. It hit his collarbone, emitting a pained yell from him. </p><p>Fujiwara lunged at him and quickly grabbed the fallen hammer before striking. It now landed on the man’s eye. Blood bursted out and the man only knew how to scream in agony. Another strike landed on his cheek, the man felt and <em>heard </em>his cheekbone crack. He blindly tried to stab Fujiwara in retaliation as he wildly lashed out.</p><p>The knife finally hit his mark.</p><p>It dug its way through his torso, just right above the left hip bone. Fujiwara let out an outraged scream as he fell in pain. </p><p>“I’m gonna <em>kill</em> you!<em>” </em>Fujiwara screamed before grabbing his gun and putting three muffled bullets through the man’s head. The poor man now fell beside him, limp and dead. Brain matter and blood spatter decorated the room. His face was barely recognizable— now just a mix of bone, blood, and brain. A red wet viscous mess. </p><p>Fujiwara shot two more bullets for good measure. The blood spatter staining his face and clothes. His nose scrunched at the smell. He was panting heavily. A hand instinctively hovering above the knife that protruded from his torso.</p><p>”Pathetic,” he spat on to the dead body, “so pathetic. You’re not even him. You’re not <em>him</em> and yet I’m like this. This can’t be it. This is just pathetic.”</p><p>
  <em>You’re not Hinata.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re not who I want. </em>
</p><p>With shaking bloody fingers, he pulled out his phone and called the only other man he could depend on.</p><p>He picked up the call within the third ring.</p><p>“Hello?” </p><p>“Takeshi,” Fujiwara grunted, “where are you?” </p><p>“Not in town,” he replied, a hint of confusion laced his tone, “are you alright? You sound like you’re in pain.”</p><p>“I’ve been stabbed,” he grudgingly admitted, “some plaything I had fought me well. I wish I could kill this animal twice.” </p><p>“How bad is it?” Takeshi immediately asked, trying to assess the situation. </p><p>“The knife is still left inside, bleeding quite steadily. My head is slightly spinning. But forget that, this isn’t why I called you.”</p><p>“What else could be a more pressing issue than you bleeding out?” Sarcasm was very evident in each word spoken.</p><p>“Hinata.”</p><p>“Who?” </p><p>“Hinata Shouyo.”</p><p>Takeshi was silent for a moment, “from nine years ago? The volleyball player? Your current teammate?” </p><p>“Yes, him,” he winced at the sudden pain from trying to stand up and gave up, deciding to rest on the floor for a little while longer.</p><p>“What about him?”</p><p>“He... he’s pissing me off. I need to get to him but he’s giving me nothing. He’s different now. I... can’t get to him.”</p><p>“Isn’t this a sign for you to stop whatever you’re trying to do and focus on yourself? Like for example, calling your private ambulance and getting to your hospital?” </p><p>“Takeshi,” his voice biting, “I can’t stop now. He got away from me once and I’m not about to lose a second time.” </p><p>“He didn’t get away from you, you let him go. And right now, you should leave it as that. You can play with anyone in the world and preferably someone less known.”</p><p>“No,” he fervently shook his head, “you don’t get it. He’s laughing at me, he’s having a big laugh at me, I’m not even kidding, I can hear it, Takeshi,” he paused to massage his forming headache, “he thinks he can get past me. I don’t lose, I never lose.”</p><p>“I think-“</p><p>“I’m going to kill him,” he said firmly, sounding slightly out of breath. </p><p>“This is not a good-“ Takeshi tried to interject again, but Fujiwara had already hung up. Takeshi immediately tried to call back but he ignored it.</p><p>He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at the mess of the man he had made. </p><p>
  <em> I’m going to kill him. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this fic will be coming to an end with the next chapter. I hope y’all have enjoyed the ride so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. on to the second</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The conclusion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Rating: WARNING this gets really violent.</p><p>But if you're okay with that (which I'm sure you would be if you read this far HAHAHA), enjoy this long chapter. This is the longest chapter I've ever written in general.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hinata was having a bittersweet night.</p><p>They had lost against Argentina and he was overwhelmed with the emotions of both sadness and content. Sad because his Olympic journey had come to an end, content because he had fought hard alongside his teammates and friends. He had even managed to meet Oikawa and played against him— reminiscent of high school days, the Brazilian beach, and his awe of Oikawa’s skill.</p><p>To fight with and against friends was truly an honor for Hinata. </p><p>He felt quite blessed to have been given the opportunity to experience such an exhilarating and breath-taking adventure. The years of progress from young until where he stood today was one of highs and lows, of accomplishing dreams and heartbreaks. It attested and validated the hard work Hinata had put in to ensure the world knew his name. And to ensure he would stand with Kageyama as he conquered the world.</p><p>The team had a silent dinner together as they still suffered from the aftershocks of their loss. They were given a wide selection of comfort food, but it was difficult to truly enjoy it with tears and snot running down their faces. Nonetheless, most of them were grateful to have each other to overcome the tough-to-chew outcome. </p><p>That being said, Hinata wondered where Fujiwara had disappeared to. After their match, he had realized that Fujiwara was nowhere to be found in the locker room or in the bus. He didn’t quite mind his absence, but something made him feel unsettled.  </p><p>“Hinata,” Kageyama nudged him. The four roommates had crashed down on their couch and turned on a movie as soon as they had stumbled back home in a miserable daze. They were all wallowing in chocolate, ice cream, and cookies. It made Hinata feel a little sick, but he couldn’t help himself. </p><p>“Hm?” Hinata grunted back, eyes focused on the movie being played. </p><p>“I’ve been meaning to say,” there was a pause and a crunch of a cookie being munched by Kageyama, “your receives don’t suck as much right now.”</p><p>At this comment, Hinata snapped his head to his right where Kageyama was smirking at him, “wow, weeks of practice and games and not to mention, us beating Adlers, made you <em> finally </em> realize that I’ve gotten a little better. You’re really slow on the uptake, Kageyama.”</p><p>Kageyama playfully pushed at his shoulders, “but I really mean it though. Those years in Brazil did you wonders.”</p><p>Hinata snorted in amusement, “thanks. It was the heat and sand that magically gave me volleyball powers.”</p><p>He rolled his eyes in retaliation, “you know what I’m trying to say. I’m proud of how far you come, especially knowing the hard work you’ve put in and all. It’s just... really incredible to see.” </p><p>Hinata now smiled warmly, “you could have just said that from the start. How could I ever figure it out with a grumpy-looking face like yours.”</p><p>“I’ll have you know that I can’t help it. My face is just like this, I was born with it,” Kageyama aggressively defended himself, “and it’s not me who had misunderstood—“</p><p>“Would ya shut it Tobio-kun, some of us are tryna watch a movie,” he pointed at himself and then at a passed out Bokuto. </p><p>“Sorry,” he muttered. Hinata just softly smiled at their exchange and let his eyes wander back to the television. He was unfocused, letting his mind drift away, allowing the movie chatter to wash over him. But it still gave him comfort.  </p><p>They continued watching the movie and soon it came to an end. They all just laid there watching the movie credits unfold—all too lazy and not bothered to move. If you were to ask either of them what the movie was about, none would be able to answer. Kageyama was pretty sure they just watched a documentary (they didn’t)<b>.</b></p><p>They were exhausted physically and emotionally. Their day was a rollercoaster of emotions and it felt never-ending. </p><p>“Should we draw a mustache on Bokkun?” Atsumu suddenly piped up. Hinata glanced at Bokuto who was still fast asleep and giggled.</p><p>“You’re a genius,” Hinata replied before standing up and stretching, yawning as he did so, with the intention of finding a marker, “I’ll be right back.” </p><p>He went to his room and grabbed all the markers he had. He managed to gather black, pink, blue, and green ones. Hinata rushed back in glee, a huge smile painted on his face. </p><p>As he dropped the markers onto the coffee table, a small snore was released from Kageyama.  Hinata found him fast asleep as well, his cheeks squished on a pillow. He was sure he could see some drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.  </p><p>
  <em>Gross. </em>
</p><p>They both glanced at each other and had the same thought:</p><p>
  <em> Let’s draw on the both of them. </em>
</p><p>Their night then consisted of the most artistic of drawings on both of their friend’s faces. Atsumu had drawn mustaches, clown noses, writing that “tsumu was here” across their foreheads. Hinata had drawn green volleyballs, given them a very badly drawn pair of glasses, and confirmed that “Hinata is da best” across both of their cheeks.</p><p>As soon as they were finished and were able to relish in their masterpieces, they couldn’t stop laughing, holding in their stomach that hurt from their unceasing bouts of laughter. Atsumu was able to click some photos on his phone in the midst of their laughter— most of them shaky and blurry. </p><p>Both of their victims snorted awake at the loud noise; Bokuto looked confused while Kageyama looked grumpy (no surprise there).</p><p>“Wah-what’s so funny?” Bokuto grumbled, looking back and forth at them. Atsumu and Hinata glanced at each other, their smiles were painfully wide. </p><p>“Why are you guys always so louuuudd?” Kageyama grunted, stretching the last word in whiny irritation.</p><p>Hinata decided to grab a mirror and gave it to them. As soon as they saw themselves, both of them had sprinted out of the living room, giggling gleefully as they did so. </p><p>“‘TSUMU,” Bokuto bellowed.</p><p>“HINATA,” Kageyama yelled, “COME BACK HERE, YOU IDIOT.”</p><p>Needless to say, their night ended on a high note with a long chase around their apartment. They might have broken one or two lamps, and definitely one or two mugs. But it was all part of the game. </p><p>And Hinata felt right at home.</p>
<hr/><p>Fujiwara was in pain.</p><p>He had pulled out the knife, screaming in continuous agony, as he quickly threw it aside in brusque anger. It slid beside the dead body. He had then crawled to the tool table and taken a soft cloth to wrap around his waist and the gaping wound. A few rounds of masking tape to tightly hold it in place ensured some kind of mobility. </p><p>But he was definitely in all-consuming pain.</p><p>He was slumped on the floor, breathing deeply, trying to collect himself. His eyes were closed but his mind was running with wild thoughts and plans. In the end, he decided to literally break down their door and complete the one thing he truly wanted to do from their years apart.</p><p>Fujiwara couldn’t care less about the consequences anymore.</p><p>His phone rang yet again, no doubt it being Takeshi. But when he saw the caller ID, he realized that it was his father. He quickly answered it. </p><p>“Father?” He greeted him questioningly. </p><p>“Takeshi called,” his father started, making Fujiwara roll his eyes, “my private ambulance is on its way. You be a good boy and sit tight." </p><p>“But Father-" </p><p>“No,” he cut him off, “this isn’t an argument. This is me telling you what to do and you do it. I just lost your mother and I can’t lose you too. You know what that would do to me.” </p><p>That silenced Fujiwara. It was not an everyday occurrence where his father would openly express his love and care for him. He had to admit he was shocked. But that wasn’t going to stop him. </p><p>He was too close to willingly let it go.</p><p>“Okay, Father,” he finally said with a relenting sigh, anything to cut this call off quickly, “I’ll be here.”</p><p>He heard a deep hum in approval, “you better be Kenji. No tricks. I’ll see you at our hospital.”</p><p>And with that, the phone call ended. Fujiwara immediately stood up, using the wall to help him do so. He was already panting from the effort. Fujiwara slipped on his usual black latex gloves and wildly looked around for what to bring with him. He settled for the masking tape, pocket knife, and the bucket that was still filled with the stale blood of the poor dead man. He poured it out and watched the blood crawl to the drain for a moment before pocketing his phone and knife and slowly making his way to his car.</p><p>The drive back to the dorms was a blurry half an hour. Halfway through his journey, he received a phone call. He was sure that his father was very much pissed at him for not staying put. </p><p>So he put his phone on silent and did not answer the call.</p><p>When he arrived, he found the dorms to be eerily quiet. The cafes and small shops were closed. The corridor was slightly dim. It was as if they knew the sin that Fujiwara was about to commit. He quickly took the stairs to Hinata’s apartment, wincing slightly at every step. But he stubbornly trudged on. </p><p>And finally, he was at his door. </p><p>
  <em> Finally.</em>
</p><p>He took a few deep breaths before trying to open their door. It was unlocked. Someone must have forgotten to check. </p><p>
  <em> Stupid, stupid, stupid.  </em>
</p><p>He entered noiselessly, bucket and masking tape at hand. It was past 3 am. There was no sound. Everyone was fast asleep.</p><p>The apartment was dark, Fujiwara could only see the blinking street lights from the living room window. The design of the apartment was similar, the only aspect that set it apart was the location of the dining table and the mess that was their couch. </p><p>And of course, that Hinata was within reach. Unknowingly near Fujiwara’s fingertips. </p><p>He first made his way to the bathroom. He filled the bucket with icy cold water that was tinted pink from old blood. He wondered if anyone would wake up but still found the apartment to be quiet despite the noise. And if Fujiwara really strained his ear, he could hear soft snores coming from their rooms. </p><p>While waiting for the bucket to fill up, he went to their kitchen and straight for the freezer to grab a handful of ice. He went back to quickly dump it into the bucket. He did this three times until he was satisfied with the result. </p><p>He dragged it to the entrance of the bathroom and stood there to carefully inspect and select the most probable room that held a sleeping Hinata. One door had no decorations, another had a “Keep Out” sign, another had a picture of a random kitten, and the last had a hanging volleyball soft toy on the handle. He figured the last door was the one. He was sure he saw the same toy hanging from Hinata’s bag the other day.</p><p>With his mind made up, he dragged the bucket as quietly as he could towards that door. Fujiwara’s heart was thumping with raging excitement, despite the occasional spasm of pain from his wound. He ignored it, he ignored everything and anything because Fujiwara was so close to the finishing line. </p><p>He will not lose.</p><p>He opened the door and couldn’t help the gasp that was pushed out of him when he saw Hinata peacefully dozing off. There was a night light turned on that dimly lit his face and Fujiwara was able to see the slight smile that rested on his lips.  </p><p><em> Not for much longer. </em> </p><p>He dragged the bucket closer to the bed and made sure to close and lock Hinata’s door. He stood there for a moment to relish in the finality of this conclusion. His nine years of desire will soon be quenched and he will enjoy every second of it. There was no other way; Fujiwara knew it in his heart that this was always going to be the end.</p><p>Him versus Hinata.  </p><p>When he reached the bed, he immediately ran his fingers through his fluffy hair with one hand and the other toying the masking tape. Hinata stirred in his sleep but did not wake. Fujiwara fondly smiled at his foolishness.  </p><p>As he unraveled the masking tape, the noise of it made Hinata sleepily open one eye. It took him a few seconds to settle on Fujiwara, who had the widest grin on his face.</p><p>“Whaddareyou... are you ‘ere to draw mustaches,” he mumbled. There was a pause and Fujiwara said nothing. When the recognition finally hit, Hinata’s eyes snapped open in fear. </p><p>But it was too late. </p><p>“<em>Get ou- </em>“ his words were lost as Fujiwara climbed onto the bed and pinned him down, taping his mouth shut. Hinata thrashed and struggled to push him off, but Fujiwara was too determined to let him have his way. </p><p>“Don’t be difficult Hinata,” Fujiwara lowly growled with venom, “this will be over soon.”  </p><p>This did nothing but increase his thrashing. He was more built now and it took Fujiwara much more effort to pin him down, considering the fact he was severely injured as well. He threw a few punches to his face, each punch snapping Hinata’s face to the side from the sheer brutality of it. </p><p>“I. Said. To. Quiet. Down.” Fujiwara snarled with each punch, “don’t make me more pissed off. I’m trying to enjoy this moment with you.”</p><p>The last few punches made Hinata settle down and groan underneath the tape. His face was splattered with blood that leaked from his broken nose. Fujiwara hungrily looked at the mess and was so awed by how beautiful Hinata was. The purpling bruises and the swollen eye was the perfect picture to Fujiwara’s eager eyes. There were tears forming at the corner of Hinata’s angry eyes— so passionate and fiery with rage that Fujiwara could not help but feel honored.</p><p>“I knew you’d be just as pretty like this as you were back then,” Fujiwara lovingly commented. A gentle thumb brushed across Hinata’s taped mouth, who tried to jerk away, “the years apart is making me desperate, so let me slow down and savor this with you.”</p><p>He tangled his fingers through Hinata’s messy hair and harshly pulled him along, forcing him to get out of bed and land beside the filled bucket. As soon as Hinata eyed it, there were sounds of protest and re-energized struggle. His hands gripped at the fingers tangled in his hair, trying to scratch and loosen his hold.  </p><p>“Here’s a nice wake-up call for you,” Fujiwara whispered hotly in his ear, “maybe this will teach you to behave.”</p><p>Hinata furiously shook his head in disagreement, the fear prominent on his face. He was begging underneath his tape. </p><p>
  <em> Please, please, plea- </em>
</p><p>Fujiwara dunked his head into the ice-cold water. Hinata immediately tried to lift his head, to breathe. He couldn’t see anything, only a dark whirlpool. His hands hastily tried to push himself away, but Fujiwara held on with all the strength that he had— anger and manic glee goading him on. The water started to seep in everywhere, a hint of blood was coating his tongue. Hinata tried so hard to hold his breath, but he was suffocating, his taped mouth intensified the feeling. The freezing water felt like fire against his skin. </p><p>He was going to die.</p><p>When Hinata felt like he was at his limit, he was pulled out of the water. He desperately tried to catch his breath, but it hurt. His broken nose made it hurt. His heart was beating erratically, his face flushed from the exertion. He wished his mouth wasn’t taped so he could gulp the much-needed air. </p><p>“Do you understand now Hinata? Do you understand that you never really had a choice? I will always be there in every corner of your life; whether in your head or physically. This was how it had to end. Doesn’t that give you relief? Hm? You don’t have to think any longer, I’m here to put all your worries aside. Because you know how this story ends. It’s with you dying in my arms, and I will cherish each moment of it. Because it has been a long time coming. Do you get it now? This. Was. Fate. Don’t you agree?”</p><p>Hinata weakly shook his head. </p><p>“What a pity,” Fujiwara smirked, “maybe I can change your mind.” </p><p>He dunked his head in and this time Hinata felt too tired, too weak to fight back in earnest. The fiery water was an invading poison, and Hinata had no energy to stop it. Within seconds of feeble struggle, he couldn’t help but breathe. His lungs needed oxygen, even though he tried his hardest to protest against it. </p><p>The water made its way into his lungs, he was drowning. His brain felt like it was boiling with the water that was unrelentingly pushing its way through his nose and the corners of his taped mouth. It was an all-consuming pain. Hinata felt like he was blacking out, his own life fading and seeping into the blood-contaminated water. He couldn’t hear anything but his heart struggling to keep him alive. It was a useless attempt. Hinata was going to die.  </p><p>And Fujiwara was happy. He felt and watched Hinata lose. His arms fell limp to either side of the bucket, there was no fight left. This was meant to be. </p><p>He pulled him out and Hinata barely responded. Fujiwara just heard choking noises, a little water pushing out of his nose and taped mouth but it wasn’t enough. He was drowning both in and out of the water.</p><p>Fujiwara released him and Hinata pathetically flopped onto his bedroom floor. An occasional seizure passed through him as he tried to breathe. </p><p>“Man, I kinda feel sorry for you right now,” Fujiwara nonchalantly quipped, “but it’s not enough.” </p><p>Fujiwara took out his pocketknife and harshly stabbed his right arm. Once. Twice. He then did the same to his left arm. Each stab emitted a weak scream. Each stab was like a mountain being lifted off Fujiwara’s shoulders. He felt at peace. </p><p>Hinata was crying now. Tears and snot painted his face. He didn’t want to die this way. He wanted to live and play more volleyball. He wanted to feel the hot sand underneath his feet as he watched and laughed at his friends trying their best (and failing) at beach volleyball. He wanted to thank his family, Kageyama, Atsumu, and all his other friends for being a huge support and anchor in his life.</p><p>There was so much life still left in him, but he wasn’t given a choice. </p><p>
  <em> I’m going to die. </em>
</p><p>Both of them knew how this was going to end. There was no denying it now.</p><p>Both his arms were useless and in complete agony. He could barely breathe. His vision was blurry as he tried to anticipate Fujiwara’s next move— but he was now just a dark shape in front of him. </p><p>“This is the end,” Fujiwara simply said. </p><p>Hinata couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be it. This was too frustrating, too unfair. </p><p>Fujiwara now held his head again with the intention of tugging him back into the water for the last time. But Hinata, with his last burst of strength, punched him. It felt like being stabbed again as his huge wounds bled out in streams of blood. But he didn’t care. </p><p>Hinata refused for this to be the last chapter in his life.</p><p>
  <em> This is not the end. </em>
</p><p>Hinata punched him again at his stomach, then his torso, again and again. Until Fujiwara let out a loud scream, definitely alerting his roommates of his presence. It seemed as though he had a wound around his torso, so Hinata targeted it with every painful punch.  </p><p>He. Was. Not. Going. To. Die.</p><p>Fujiwara was trying to put space between them, but Hinata pinned him down by wrapping his legs around him and holding on tight. Each punch had Fujiwara yelling. </p><p>“Stop! This is—“ a punch interrupted him. </p><p>There were frantic knocks at his door. He heard both Kageyama and Atsumu calling out to him. Bokuto was yelling for answers. He ripped out the tape, ignoring the sting.</p><p>“Who do you think you are?” Hinata snarled, “you tried to kill me again? And what? You think I’ll just <em>let</em> you. You think I’m the same person, same kid, from ten years ago? You’re going to jail. I will make sure of it. I will watch you walk into prison knowing you’ll rot in there for the rest of your life.”</p><p>At this, Fujiwara wildly laughed, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. </p><p>“It had to be like this,” Fujiwara coughed out, “it needed to end like this.”</p><p>“No,” Hinata shook his head, “you could’ve just left me alone.”</p><p>And with that, Hinata continued to punch him at his torso. There were bangs at the door as his friends tried to break their way in. They finally were able to smash their way through, Hinata barely acknowledging their presence. Atsumu rushed over to pull Hinata away from him, but Hinata fought back, content with punching Fujiwara until the next morning.</p><p>“Hey! <em> Hey- </em> Hinata! Calm down,” Atsumu tried to stop him, “we’ve called the police and ambulance already! Calm down, you’re okay now.”</p><p>Hinata was panting as he halted his punches. Hinata gazed at Fujiwara’s face that was contorted in pain, clutching at his wound. Kageyama was by his side to help Atsumu. And Bokuto stood still in shock as he stared at the chaos unfolding right in front of him. </p><p>Fujiwara was smiling now. His teeth a red mess of blood and spit. He relished in the utter disarray that was Hinata. The botched and bloody arms, the bruised face, broken nose. This was what he wanted.</p><p>“You’re okay,” Kageyama quietly soothed Hinata, gently rubbing his sobbing back. “We’re here now. And you were so strong for holding on. You’re safe. You’re okay.”</p><p>Fujiwara watched Atsumu and Kageyama comfort him. Bokuto made his way over to Fujiwara. Fujiwara lazily refocused his eyes on the tall and broad figure. Bokuto was saying something but he couldn’t decipher the string of words. It all sounded muddled to him. </p><p>In fact, his vision was eroding into a scatter of black spots. He felt his mind drifting into another world that he couldn’t quite escape from. He watched Hinata again, who was trying to breathe and calm his sobs. But Fujiwara could barely focus. He knew he had lost and was still losing too much blood that was collecting and forming a warm puddle around him. He could even taste blood in his mouth. It was warm, metallic and way too much. But it had to be like this.</p><p>Him versus Hinata. </p><p>It had to end like this.</p><p><em> Father is going to be really pissed. </em> </p><p>Fujiwara started to weakly chuckle at that thought. He didn’t quite mind this turn of events.</p><p>His second death.</p><p>It was an eye-opener— life was simply too short to hold back and have regrets. He had finally done the one thing he truly craved. Yet, he was both happy and sad. Happy to have reached this far, but sad to not have found his answer.</p><p>Because he still wonders.</p><p>How would Hinata look in death— the beautiful tints of red and blue, the underlying purple. The shivers and shudders before taking his very last breath. He would look so small and pretty in his arms.</p><p>Fujiwara hazily studied the broken Hinata. And with a convulsing sigh, he closed his eyes, the darkness now an overwhelming and loud thrum in his head. He could barely feel the pain anymore. Everything felt cold and numb.</p><p>He wonders.</p><p>
  <em>Would it... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>look something like this?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooft. </p><p>And that's a wrap in the sequel and series. </p><p>I hope this ending was not disappointing and that it was somewhat a satisfying conclusion. I left it a little open to interpretation on purpose. Did y'all expect that? I hope there were some twists and turns to keep you guys on edge. </p><p>It's kinda funny because when I first planned the sequel, I planned for a completely different ending. I actually wanted to show a Kageyama POV spiraling and going crazy on Hinata's behalf, but it felt very OOC as I was writing it and didn't really fit in with the tone so the fic progressed like this. Thus, the fic's name might not really fit with the story anymore because there wasn't a lot of avenging going on, but I really like the name. But im thinking about changing it to “to revenge the sun” what do you guys think?</p><p>Anyways, I might just write a crazy Kageyama POV in a separate and short one-shot fic but if not, this is it. I'll see you in another fic hopefully if I find the spurt of creativity coming to me. But no promises. I truly enjoyed writing my fics and it was definitely difficult at times to be motivated and write out my ideas in an interesting way (as you can tell from my long break). I'm so happy that I not only finished one but TWO long fics, I never completed a fic in my life before, I usually give up or have a long slump, so I feel really accomplished right now. It was constantly invading my mind that I hadn't finished this sequel and now I finally have and I'm quite happy with how it turned out. I also feel like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. </p><p>I also enjoyed improving my writing and story-telling skills, when I compare this fic to ATH, I feel like there are slight improvements in how I tell a story and I'm really happy about it. </p><p>Finally, I wanna say thank you for reading and sticking around. It meant a lot to me to know there were people out there who were genuinely interested in reading my work. You guys were truly the ones who motivated me to get back to writing when I experienced my slump. </p><p>If you have any prompts or requests, just comment below. This fic was actually inspired by a few of y'all suggestions, so I might just do it fr. </p><p>Anyways, stay safe guys. I hope your week and months to come treats you kind. </p><p>Zii8</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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